When I Look At You
by MrsMargeryLovett
Summary: Diane finds herself in peril in the streets of London, until saved by a mysterious man with dark hair. But why does he keep looking at her like that? Why does he take her to a pie shop in London? Why does he call her Lucy? Rated T for safety
1. Diane Help Me

I looked around me, seeing nothing but the dark streets of London. I stumbled, as I often did, cursing myself. Cursing my father. I had begged him not to leave me in the streets alone. I had told him I had no sense of time, no sense of direction, and no sense of coordination. What a fool he was to let me wander by myself.

Yet I still needed to find him, my beacon of safety.

Rain started to fall from the heavens, and I clutched my cloak close to me, pulling the ribbons that fastened my bonnet tightly. I could not stand the cold, and rain had always brought cold with it. Each time I had been stuck outside in the rain, I had always gained a cold or the flu. I feared that this time, it would be no different.

"Father!" I called out, my voice echoing. "Father? Father, where are you?"

My own voice came hurtling back towards me as it bounced off the walls of the buildings around me. I turned helplessly, twisting a small handkerchief in my hands.

"Where are you?" I whispered, at last standing still. I knew not where I was, and still felt as helpless as ever.

I looked around again, and could not see a single sign to name the street, nor a single building where I might have found a kindly face. I trembled, seeing that between each building, there were alleyways. Dark alleyways. I heard voices coming from them.

Wincing, I listened to the voices. Some were concerned voices, those of families living on the streets. Some were seductive, those of prostitutes and whores. I could even swear I heard them at their business as well. At this sound, my hands snapped up to my ears, and I closed my eyes firmly.

People walked by, not caring for the fact that I sat there alone. I could not understand why they did not even cast a glance at me. Huddled in the corner, I could just have easily been a child.

I murmured to myself, repeating the word 'father' over and over, as if he would appear if I only wished hard enough. It sickened me almost that I should be so childish. I was a young woman, not a silly child. By growing, I was to become more mature, to be able to stand on my own two feet.

But I could not help it.

I could not stand being alone, not knowing where I was.

All of a sudden, the voices that had been heard in the alleyways became louder, and I could hear one approaching me. I looked up, seeing nothing, but hearing that little bit clearer. There were two sounds to be heard.

Firstly, a set of voices in the distance, laughing and cursing. It echoed slightly, making it harder to make out what the voices said.

Secondly, a set of feet, making their way down the street.

Down towards me.

I rose to my feet slowly, looking for the person to whom the feet belonged to. There was only a dim light from the street lamps overhead, allowing me that smallest amount of sight. The footsteps stopped all of a sudden, and there was silence across the street, only disturbed by the distant mutters of men.

"Hello?" I whispered, my voice trembling. The person whom the footsteps belonged to did not answer. I swallowed thickly, shaking.

"Who's there?" I asked, my voice a little braver than before, although my knees suddenly felt weaker.

Slowly, the figure appeared in the shadows on the edge of the light, causing only a silhouette to form. I tensed, frightened all the more. My breath became raspy, and the rain started to beat at me with a slight more ferocity.

In my fear, I ran.

I cared not for the fact that I still stumbled wherever I went, and that the figure had begun to follow me. All that I knew was that I had to keep going. There was no reason specifically why I did, but the man had made me uneasy. I could not stand to have him in my sight again.

I kept running. Running and running and running. My course took me through many an alleyway, and my concentration had slipped to the point where I did not notice that my bonnet had long fallen off, and my feet were now numb with the icy water they had plunged into. The rain still poured down, soaking my hair until it hung in loose tendrils around my face, sticking to my cheeks and forehead.

"God help me," I murmured to myself as I ran. "Dear God, help me!"

Although I could still swear I heard those footsteps behind me, I looked behind, seeing not a soul. It disturbed me, and I could not fully say I believed that I was not still being followed.

I turned my head back to look forward, but only in time to see the collision I made.

"Steady yehrself," a man said suddenly- I only realised moments after that I had run straight into him. "It ain't safe, yeh know, running the streets like that."

"Sir," I said quickly, taking hold of the man's hands in desperation. "Sir, you must help me. There is a man behind me, I think he has followed me halfway across London!"

"'alfway across London, yeh say," the man said, smiling. "explains why yeh're out of breath, dear. And so far away from 'ome."

From the shadows of the alley, two more men appeared, smiling in the same way this man was. I looked at them each, and quickly let go of the man's hands.

"I'm sorry, I was just frightened, I didn't realise I-"

"Yeh needn't worry," he assured me, taking hold of my hands this time. "We won't be letting' no men come and find yeh 'ere."

"Sure we'll find yeh somewhere much cosier," the tallest of the men said, looking at me with a blaze in his eyes.

I opened my own wide, staring at them with horror.

"No, no, you can't-"

"Stumbled into our little alley," said the most handsome of the three, and most obviously their 'leader', so to say. "And yeh know what 'appens to pretty girls who find themselves in our alley."

"Please, sirs, I ask only for your help!"

"We can help alright," said the man who still held my hands. In the blink of an eye, he had turned me to face the other two men, pinning my arms behind my back. I tried to struggle free, but he only gripped on tighter.

"Let me go!" I pleaded, tears starting to form in my eyes. "Please, I need your help!"

They all sniggered, and the 'leader' of the three pushed the taller one aside.

"Seems an innocent girl," he muttered to the other two. He smiled devilishly at me. "I'll be the first to 'ave 'er."

I opened my mouth in a silent scream, trying to struggle again, but my arms started to ache from the effort. My legs kicked out at him, but the man holding me pulled my arms tighter as punishment for my actions.

"Just let me go," I whispered, helpless by this point. "Please, let me go, let me go…" I repeated those three words senselessly as the 'leader' touched my cheek tenderly. Almost too gently. It was as if he were lulling me into a false sense of security.

"We'll be gentle enough," he said gently, kissing my neck eagerly. I winced, but could not help but allow him to do so. I groaned in protest as he nipped my neck and earlobe, but it did no use.

I only became more alert as he started to rip at the neckline of my dress. No longer caring even if my arms were to be snapped straight off, I moved, pressing my back as far towards the man holding me as possible, escaping him for a simple second.

As I said, a simple second.

The man was determined, and took a small pocket knife from his coat. I closed my eyes, breathing heavily as he brought the knife close to my dress, cutting the material.

"It'll all be over soon enough," he whispered into my ear, his breath warm.

With painful slowness, his hand moved to my skirts, lifting them.

"Help me," I whispered, thinking them the last words I would use.

All of a sudden, I no longer felt that hand. The warm breath was gone, and I could feel the cold air of someone passing by. I dared not open my eyes, even when the man who had a hold of my arms let go, gasping out in pain. I collapsed to the floor, not looking up at the scene before me.

I heard the sound of furious voices, and a fourth voice that I did not recognise.

"Listen," said the voice of the 'leader'. "Yeh want yeh're own girl, fine, but this one's ours."

"Yours?" the fourth, low voice said, followed quickly by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I winced, covering my ears frantically as I had done before. The rain still fell mercilessly, deafening some of the sound.

I then felt the presence of someone standing over me. I looked up carefully, unable to see clearly who the man was. I assumed- or, at least, hoped- this man was my friend rather than foe.

"Be glad I wouldn't cut your throats out as I would to any other man in your position," he growled, his stance determined.

The three men looked at each other, their faces angry rather than scared. At once, they scrambled to their feet, running in a clumsy manner.

"Keep your whore, then!" one cried out, his voice echoing. I clenched my fists, still frightened. My face was hidden by my arms, and I could not summon myself to look up at the man who had saved me- I say that he saved me, although I had no idea if what those men had thought he would do after they left was true or not.

A firm hand came to my shoulder, though it shook me with the slightest of pressures. I cried out in surprise, although it must have sounded like pain to the man. His hand retreated immediately, but I could feel he was still near.

"Look up," he demanded softly. At the very sound of his voice I started to tremble, despite the fact that it could just have easily been the rain. I assumed the man also started to notice the rain, although it had been pouring for quite some time, as he lay a coat on top of me.

"Look at me," he repeated, but again, I could not move. The man sighed, and without another word turned me to look into my face. I was forced all of a sudden to look at him, and gasped. I know it was rude of me, but I could not help it. The man was as pale as death, and all in all his features led little to the idea he may have been a kind man.

He lay a hand on my arm, as if examining for cuts and bruises. I winced, my arms still aching. The man quickly snapped his arms once more to his side, staring at me with both curiosity and shock.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked.

"No," I lied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Without warning, the man gathered my in his arms, pulling me towards his chest. I stiffened, my eyes closed tightly. I wished to cry out, to tell him either to let me be or make his business done, but he seemed to take his pleasure slowly. His cheek rested on the top of my head, and he held me with a firm grip.

As I waited, though, I noticed something. The man had neither touched my flesh nor spoken such a word indicating the action.

He was shaking, though. It may have been laughter or it may have been tears, but all I knew was that he did either.

"Please," I whispered as I gained my senses. "Please, before…before that, I asked- I need to find my father."

Slowly, the man held my shoulders and looked into my eyes.

"Lucy, your father was long dead and buried. That is what you told me."

I shook my head.

"You are mistaken, sir. I have only today arrived from York."

He sighed sadly, nodding in an understanding manner.

"That is where you have been all these years? I assumed you would simply wait in that one place. How very, very foolish of me."

"Sir?"

"Can you walk?" he asked, changing the subject. Out of my often obedient nature, I moved, attempting to stand, but could not.

"He will still be looking for me," I murmured.

"If you can not walk, then," he said as he started to pick me up in his arms. I weakly pushed him away, not wishing to be handled. I was ignored, though, and had no choice but to be carried.

We began to move, and a certain peace came over me. That was, until I realised the direction we had taken. I put a hand on his shoulder, catching his attention. My voice was still so weak that I doubt he would have heard me without looking at me first.

"I had come from the other direction. That was where I had run from."

"I know," he said in an even tone, still walking on, not looking back.

"Then we must turn around. My father will not find me if we are even further away."

"You do not remember, Lucy? I held your hand when we buried your father, you are mistaken."

"Who is Lucy?" I asked quietly.

At this, he finally stopped. We looked at each other, his features livid, mine dazed and confused. I was too weak, too frightened, to be concerned any more.

"Arsenic, she told me," he muttered. "Of course, taken improperly, effects could be different. Far too different. A wife dead or a wife who can not remember her name? I suppose it doesn't matter, really."

I tried to make sense of his words, but found that I could not. They only mixed in the word before it and made nonsense of the word to come.

"Who is Lucy? Who spoke of arsenic?"

"Dear, if you can not remember your own name, you will not at all remember a simple matter of the landlady."

"I have had no landlady," I said a little louder. The man hushed me, and did not halt. If anything, he picked up the pace.

"You must take me back," I said earnestly. "I have no stomach for such jokes as these. Put me down and allow me to find my father."

Only at this moment did all reality sink into me. My weak attempts at freedom started to gain passion as I thrashed like an animal, crying out for him to let me go. There was not a soul on the streets, and not a light turned on. The man only seemed to increase his pace, hurrying me to whatever place it was for me to be taken.


	2. Sweeney It's Her

Every single one of her movements made me flinch. She screamed with such a passion I could barely stand it. Why must she torture me so? Lucy would never have said such cruel words to Benjamin Barker, not ever.

I lay the blame on the arsenic. Of course, that was the problem. The moment her lips had touched the arsenic, I believed that to be the moment this madness was conceived.

"Let me go," she murmured once more, finally tired of screaming. Her voice sounded as if it had been worn by the previous volume.

I was forced to ignore her pleas. I dared not answer her without the thought of striking passion into her again. Such would be sinful, I thought. I had already caused such pain in my absence that I did not wish to risk her happiness again.

A small smile came to my lips as I looked at her there in my arms. The smile was small, of course, due to the fact that I had lost the ability to truly appreciate happiness, but nonetheless it was there. She was just as I had remembered. It scared me how much she looked like she had before.

My eyes cast over her yellow hair. That same yellow hair that I had seen so many years ago. Like woven gold, although it had become darker with the rain. That same pale skin, the sort you would find on a white rose, a soft pink in her cheeks. And, whenever she opened her eyes- she seemed in such a daze it is as if she were intoxicated, unable to open them- I saw that same bright blue. Not china blue, not sapphire blue, but a pure blue not to be compared with anything else.

It was as if time had decided to be kind to me, even if the fates refused to be. Time had been still for me, leaving everything else unchanged, just as I had left it.

My voice was not heard over the loud rain, but I did my best to hush Lucy, and in my hope I imagined it soothed her slightly. At least, she had become less fervent in her escape, and fell slightly limp in my arms. It pained me to see her lose her power so quickly, but I could not deny I was glad she was there.

At last, I could see the window to my shop, and could also see that the lights were still on in Mrs Lovett's pie shop. It was a wonder, really. It was late, and more often than not she had given up hope on customers appearing this time of night.

Lucy had reduced herself to a childish whimper as she realised we had found our destination. I held her tightly, trying to soothe her, but it did not work. I pretended to myself that it did, but nothing could calm her now.

"Mrs Lovett," I said calmly the moment I stepped through the door. Lucy did not at all change her pace of whimpers or cries, as if she did not recognise the name at all.

"Mrs Lovett," I repeated, raising my voice ever so slightly. I did not allow myself to shout, though. My love was already frightened as it was, and I fear it would become worse if I raised my voice in violence.

"Yeh know, Mr T," Mrs Lovett's voice sounded from the parlour, "one of these days I'll 'ave to follow yeh down those streets. Ten o'clock, yeh've taken more time than usual to get back! Honestly, one of these days-"

She stepped into the room, and looked at me. Her features seemed to freeze, as if she had been struck to the face. Her mouth was still open, but she could not speak. At last.

"I don't need your opinions, Mrs Lovett, I need you to help."

She nodded quickly, rushing to the parlour again and returning with a bowl of water and a cloth. I was surprised she was so quick. I hadn't even had the time to sit Lucy down at one of the booths.

Lucy seemed dazed, unable to speak, her eyes attempting to open, but closing through sheer fatigue. No wonder, really. It had been a long day, and I assumed that either she had spent a night on the streets or only just arrived from York.

I took the wet cloth in my hand and scrubbed lightly at her face, revealing those same pretty features I had remembered. Remembered? No, that was not the right word. The face I had imagined for all those years could not compare to the one I saw now. I simply saw the face I had once lain beside in the marriage bed, the face that I had once kissed.

"What 'appened?" Mrs Lovett asked me quietly as Lucy fell against my chest, obviously unable to hold herself up let alone her eyelids.

I ignored Mrs Lovett's question, intent on my task. Slowly- and I do mean very slowly- Lucy's eyes began to regain control of themselves and opened, and those same blue eyes surveyed the surrounding room.

"Where am I?" she whispered.

"Home," I said determinedly, hoping she would understand.

She did not.

Lucy shook her head, looking again around her. She spotted Mrs Lovett, but scarcely looked at her, and returned her gaze back to me. I would have been glad had she not started to breathe so heavily, her lips quivering in panic.

"But- but what about Pemberly Court? That is home- that is now to be _my_ home!"

"If you wished for us to find a home there then simply say the word, my dear."

"No- no, my father is waiting for me there. Please, sir, you must take me back now!"

"Your father is-"

"He is not dead and buried!" she cried out, shaking convulsively. "Why must you keep saying such horrid things? I was with him only hours ago- was it hours?- please, oh please, do help me find where I am supposed to be! We only just came down from York and he told me to find him there, but-"

"Calm yourself," I said quietly, holding her hands firmly. "You mustn't drive yourself to such a passion. Look, you've already brought yourself to tears." I swiftly wiped away the tear that started to caress her cheek, but she flinched, pushing my hand away. I could not say it did not harm my very soul, but what soul did I have left that was not hers?

"I weep only for my father, who you seem intent to make jokes of. They are none of them humorous, either!"

"But, my dear, my Lucy, I-"

"Lucy?" Mrs Lovett questioned all of a sudden, taking a step towards us. "_Your Lucy?"_

"_It's her," I said firmly. Lucy snatched her hands from me._

"_Who is Lucy?" she cried shrilly. She turned her head sharply to Mrs Lovett, her eyes desperate. "Please, ma'am, listen to sense and reason! He will not listen to me, I-"_

"_Lucy, hush yourself, you've become almost delirious."_

"_I am not Lucy!" she said, her voice wavering. "Please, ma'am, my name is Diane- Diane Walter! You must believe me, you must! He will not-"_

_A low moaned escaped me as I clasped my hands around Lucy's once more._

"_You do not recognise me?" I asked, pleading more than I had since I first was taken to Australia. "It is me, my dear, your Benjamin. Your Benjamin Barker, your husband."_

_Her eyes grew wide, and with little breath she managed to shriek in an almost mad manner._

"_I have never been married!" she exclaimed, beside herself with frustration. "Nor shall I be married if you continue to keep me here! Never once have I seen a Benjamin whether he be you or any other man!"_

"_My love, I-"_

"_I don't even know who you are!"_

_For a moment, I only stared at her, shocked still by her tears and blushed cheeks. It was an anger that I had not seen in her before. My memories sought to a time where she had ever been put in such a furore._

"_Your Benjamin," I finally muttered, loud enough though for her to hear. She bit her lower lip, trying to think it would seem._

"_I don't know a Benjamin," she said sadly, resigned. "Please, just take me home."_

"_This is your home."_

_I winced as Lucy moved away from me, backing away down the booth's bench. She shook her head doggedly, murmuring to herself. I felt Mrs Lovett's hand upon my shoulder._

"_Perhaps yeh shouldn't, Mr T. I know she looks an awful lot like-"_

"_Looks like? Mrs Lovett, how blind can you be not to see her for what she is?"_

"_And what she looks like is yeh Lucy, I know, but she just said 'erself 'er name was Diane."_

_I rose quickly, causing Mrs Lovett to jump slightly, cowering under my gaze. Oh, how pitiful the woman could be at times. She claimed to love me so dearly, yet almost reduced herself to tears when I looked at her._

"_Arsenic, you said," I reminded her. "Most cases, I should think it could kill her, but obviously it took another effect on her. Taken improperly it could result in amnesia, I'm sure of it."_

"_She's dead," Mrs Lovett said with a trembling voice. "Long gone, dead and buried. I told yeh about this."_

"_Then explain this!" I said, pointing a finger towards Lucy, who was only rocking back and forth now, the pure picture of madness. In a few simply strides I came to her side, wrapping her in my arms. She screamed out loud, but I hushed her, ignoring the pain in my heart that the one sound had caused._

"_I'll admit, they're similar- could 'ave been sisters- but she's so young, Mr T. Yeh noticed that?"_

"_Some barely age at all," I said matter-of-factly, clinging to my wife desperately._

"_And some are merely young," she told me as soothingly as she could muster. Lucy suddenly nodded, earnest._

"_Proof! Evident proof!" she cried, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "Then I am free?"_

"_Free?" I asked, feeling my heart sever. "Freedom? I offer you anything but, my dear. Is this not it?"_

"_Mr Barker, I-"_

_Quickly, I took hold of her wrists, holding them close and looking into her eyes- oh, those eyes, I curse them for intoxicating me so- and spoke quietly._

"_My dear, my Lucy, you mustn't name me by that name again. They shall find me if you speak it out loud in front of anyone else. Please, it is Todd, now. Sweeney Todd."_

_Lucy seemed not to care for the idea, and only looked to Mrs Lovett, tears in her eyes. I sighed and rose again, bringing Lucy close to my chest. She struggled for a moment, then fell limp, shaking with quiet sobs._

"_You seem weary," I said softly, smoothing her hair from her face. "We should have you off to bed."_

_Immediately, Lucy turned her head to Mrs Lovett, her eyes wide. In reply, Mrs Lovett shook her head._

"_Nothing'll 'appen, love, I promise yeh."_

_I thought for a moment to scold the two of them for such thoughts, but thought better of it. I had nearly everything again. To scold now would be pointless._


	3. Diane I Don't Know Why I'm Here

I spent the night shaking, my eyes turning red with the tears I had cried. I tried to be brave, as Father had always told me to be, and tried not to cry. Yet however much I tried to hold the tears back, that was how much I would weep.

This Mr Todd did not seem to wish to give me any more answers to the questions I wished to ask. I had rambled through all of them before I had at last lost my voice to fatigue.

When may I leave?

_Leave? Lucy, we may leave whenever and to whichever place you desire!_

Why must you call me Lucy? I am not Lucy, I was born Diane.

_The arsenic! Dear God, I should not have left. I should have used all my power- of course, I had used my power then, but I should have not been beaten in my efforts._

When will you take me to my father?

_You told me your father was dead, Lucy! Is that not your father we saw buried, the day I had been the shoulder you cried on for hours on end?_

The arguments carried on for what seemed to be hours, yet could just have easily been minutes. Perhaps even years, as time had lost all meaning. At last, all time seemed to mould with the rest of it, and I could not distinguish what happened around me.

Mr Todd did not seem to sleep at all in the darkness, and I could almost sense those dark eyes burning into me. Strange. They were so dark they could not even be seen. They were like two holes, hovering in the middle of a pale, white face that shone in the night. I id not know whether to be soothed by it, fascinated or frightened.

As morning started to dawn, the peace started to settle between us. As I have said, I had lost my voice to fatigue, and therefore could not speak. Mr Todd found that he no longer had answers to give, and so we simply watched each other in silence. I watched in disgust, while he watched in interest.

I dearly wished to speak at this. I did not know why this man was curious; I had assumed he had already known everything about me. Why else would he hold me hostage without so much as a word about it. At least, a word of sense.

At last, I was taken back down into the shop- I knew it was a shop, but I could not recall what type because of my distress- and there again I saw that same kind face from the previous night. Again, I had been far too distressed that night that I could not recall her name until she introduced herself as 'Mrs Lovett'.

"What on earth 'ave yeh done to 'er?" she asked as we entered the shop, but she clucked her tongue mockingly and Mr Todd, signifying her tone of humour. Mrs Lovett quickly came to place an arm around my shoulder.

"She's perfectly fine," Mr Todd said firmly, batting away her arm and holding one of my hands in both of his. I only stared in front of me, unmoving.

"Yeh 'ungry, dear?"

"Diane," I mumbled, barely audible. Neither of the two took any notice, though, and I assumed I was unheard.

"Sure we'll find something in 'ere for yeh, dear," Mrs Lovett said cheerfully- although I could hear a distinct force in her tone.

I only nodded, not sure how to speak by this point.

"Yeh known, Mr T 'ere barely eats at all," she said musingly, trying to bring this man into the conversation. "Maybe a meal a week? Seems like it 'alf the bloody time. Telling yeh, not a single more awkward man than 'im."

"Mrs Lovett," he said sternly, his grip on my hands tightening. The woman only smiled, looking towards me.

"Suppose 'e thinks yeh could think any less of 'im in a time like this."

A low growl rose in Mr Todd's chest.

"Perhaps you can go and get her breakfast, Mrs Lovett," he said pointedly, sitting me down forcefully in a booth. I flinched, still disorientated with the way that he handled me with such a difference of care and yet unavoidable force.

As if he couldn't help it.

As Mrs Lovett disappeared, I looked up at the man with wide eyes. I swallowed thickly, trying to find my voice again.

"P-Pemberly Court, s-sir?" I asked quietly, not sure myself what I meant. Mr Todd sighed.

"Why do you hate this place so, Lucy? It's our home."

"I-I'm n-not-"

I was cut off by Mr Todd's hand cupping my cheek as he stared at me, his eyes distant. My mind screamed out as I had last night for him to leave me be, but my breath had caught in my throat, and I could not summon the power to do so.

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" he said quietly. "Fifteen years, and here I am. Fifteen years, and you don't seem a day older."

"I was only a child," I told him. It was true. Fifteen years ago, I was only little. I don't even remember a time so long ago. Mr Todd smile.

"I wouldn't have said a child."

I thought carefully, and rationalised that he must still have thought me this Lucy. A small part of me wished that I knew who she was. The majority of me wanted to know why he thought it. I did not dare ask again though. His face had become intent, and I knew not for which purpose.

My heart lifted slightly when Mrs Lovett appeared again with a tray in her hands. Her smile was welcoming, and a desire came upon me to hold her closely, to cry as if I were a child. I thought better of it, though, and only looked down towards the table as she set the tray before me.

"Poor thing," she muttered, looking over Mr Todd's shoulder at me. She nodded after a moment, smiling, as if a decision had been made.

"Mrs Lovett?" Mr Todd asked curiously, his eyes still not leaving me. It seemed he could tell when the woman thought, or at least when she thought of anything of interest.

"Just working out future plannings, Mr T," she said nonchalantly, and with that she walked back to her parlour. I watched her wistfully, wishing dearly she would stay. It seemed I was not that lucky.

Of course I wasn't. Why else would I be forced to remain in this place?

"You must eat," Mr Todd told me all of a sudden, breaking my thought. I shook my head. He sighed, tired.

"Please, do not fuss, my dear. I hate to see you like this."

"Like what?" I asked rudely, pushing away the tray.

He began to speak, but could not find a rational answer, and so pushed the tray back in my direction.

"Eat," he commanded, but in only a slightly less caring tone than before. I defied him for as long as I could until I gave in. I had not eaten for a full day, I assume, and I did not know why I had denied food for so long anyway.

I ate with acute slowness, attempting not to look up at Mr Todd, who still watched me carefully. Those dark eyes began to seer my flesh, piercing me. Whether or not they meant to, I do not know, but they did.

"Why must you stare at me like that?" I asked finally, laughing nervously. I could not help it, it was almost a natural reaction.

"I have already said, my dear, it has been ever such a long time."

"These foolish notions will disappear," I told him, my voice quiet. "You will find an advert in the newspaper telling you that my father is looking for me. Sooner or later someone will recognise me. I am sure I have relatives in London."

"Then we will calmly tell them how you are my wife."

"I don't expect they'd believe you. I never did wish to be married."

"You're speaking in riddles again," he said, sitting beside me at last.

"I never once spoke in riddles. I don't care for riddles-"

"You never did."

"Whatever it is in your mind, sir, I beg of you to put it to rest," I pleaded, my voice still quiet, yet breakable. "I am grateful- you can not believe how grateful- to you for saving me last night. I dread to think what would have happened without you. But I can not think of myself as your wife-"

"You _are_ my wife."

I paused, finally looking up at him. I do not know with what emotion I looked at him. Yes, I was frightened, but confused as well. And, if I am truthful, I was full of pity for the man. He must have been mad, and you can not frown upon such unfortunate cases.

"You think me mad, don't you?" he asked, as if reading my thoughts. Frantically, I shook my head, but after a pause, I nodded slowly.

Mr Todd laughed, but it was not a the laugh I had heard from a happy man. It was more nervous, or at least forced. My eyes widened, worried for a moment.

"Then you really can't remember any of it," he state, rather than asking.

"I have nothing to remember."

He ignored me utterly, stroking my cheek absent-mindedly. When I tried to move away from him, he only held my chin in between his finger and thumb.

"Where have you been?" he asked at last, curious. "For the past few years, while I was gone."

"How can I know how long you have been gone if you admit I have no idea what you are talking about?"

"I have been gone fifteen years. Have I not said so? It would seem the first thing I would say."

I shrugged, my face still.

Mr Todd seemed to give up completely on the idea of me becoming interested in conversation, and settled instead for sitting next to me, coercing me to eat more than I already had.

I was, to say the least, more grateful than before when Mrs Lovett appeared again. She seemed somewhat less certain than before, but still held such a beautiful smile.

"Yeh should open yeh're shop," she said to Mr Todd. "Times as bad as they are yeh'll be needing the work."

He nodded, and put an arm around my shoulders, as if demanding I should follow him. Mrs Lovett must have seen the pained look in my eyes, and quickly said:

"No, love, she don't wanna go watching yeh all day, does she? Come on, dear, we'll teach yeh something a bit more useful, eh?"

Mr Todd reluctantly let go of me, and walked back up the steps he had brought me down. I shuddered, feeling my skin thaw from where his cold hands had held me. Although I knew Mrs Lovett had most likely meant for me to help her, I found that I could not move.

"Dear?" she finally said, standing before me. I looked up abruptly, finding that I had begun to cry again. The woman clucked her tongue sympathetically, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve. "Yeh needn't cry, dear, yeh're alright."

"Who is Lucy?" I asked quietly. If I had been any louder, my voice would have broken.

Mrs Lovett bit her lower lip, as if frightened herself.

"I don't think it's in my place to say."

"It is not in my place to be here," I reminded her shakily. "Please, ma'am, if you will not tell me, then allow me liberty."

"Our Mr T's a smart enough man," she warned me. "I think it best yeh wait this out till yeh can persuade 'im."

I winced at the very idea.

"But I don't know _why_ I'm here."


	4. Sweeney The Look I Gave Torturers

Although my work was set in front of me, I could not help but think wistfully of Lucy downstairs. It pained me still that she had not regained her memory. I had been sure that with a night of thought, she may have recognised the small traces of Benjamin Barker in my face. By all rights she should have, but perhaps it would take much more than a night's rest, even if that rest had not been used.

With an acute briskness to the action, I drew my friend across the throat of another customer. I do not call them victims, though most would. A victim implies a thoughtless killing, a murder. I was performing a service, and they received such services. This man had been a good enough man, and so the service was one of utmost relief for him. Would you call him a victim?

I was left undisturbed throughout the day, and plenty enough customers came by.

_Times as hard as they are, yeh should be at work._

Remembering the words, a slightly malicious smile came upon my lips. Mrs Lovett, a brilliant mind, but the way she spoke was unbelievably stupid. I put that rather bluntly, and I mean it to be blunt. I knew exactly what she had meant down in the pie shop, and was horrified she would speak of it, even in riddles, in front of Lucy.

My darling Lucy, you will one day see this, and you will wonder why I do it when I have you back. I myself do not know! He has not harmed Johanna yet, and I daresay you would not believe I have reason to kill anyone but He, Judge Turpin!

I kept in mind the fact that I now had Lucy so as to distract myself from Johanna's absence. In those first few hours I had forgotten completely about our daughter, distracted. Before she had been on my every thought. Thinking my wife dead, I knew that I had only Johanna to live for. Now knowing that I could have my wife again…well, would you not be distracted, too?

One after another the men appeared at my door. Mrs Lovett was at least intelligent enough to tell those that were alone that I was busy unless a full hour had gone by since the last one had died. Men with families waiting were able to come up at any time after I had cleared up. It was a pretty little system, really.

The day went by slowly, and I contemplated leaving the barber shop for a small while, but thought against it. Lucy would have most likely preferred to spend some time with Mrs Lovett. They had been close enough friends fifteen years ago.

At least, I think so…

I shook my head, suddenly irate. It seemed silly that I had begun to lose so many memories. I had only ever concentrated on Johanna as a baby, and Lucy as I had left her. My praises were made because Lucy seemed just as I had left her, allowing me to recognise her instantly. But it was such a fuss trying to remember everything else. What she had liked, who she had liked, even her voice.

And so, to distract myself, I killed.

Soon enough, though, that distraction was to be taken away with me along with the day, and the night brought a restlessness. Customers still flooded into the pie shop, and I doubted Lucy had been left with nothing to do.

I watched out my window, down at the streets where men and women flocked to and from the pie shop, laughing carelessly and chattering. At times like this, I was quite easily taken off my guard. My wife downstairs, probably baking, and the streets filled with innocent laughter.

I almost had to work to see the true evil behind it all.

Almost.

Finally, the crowds disappear, and the streets are still. The silence was thick, almost suffocating me. It was strange, as silence had never bothered me before. Although, silence had been lacking for fifteen years. In prison there had been screaming of tortured prisoners- my own screams mingled in with them for the first few years- and Anthony had loved to talk absolute nonsense after he had saved me. Even Mrs Lovett had liked to talk to me, to keep me company, although she spoke less after Toby came.

Suddenly, there was silence, after so long. And I did not like it. I had not wished for it.

Despite the fact that I knew I was being incredulously selfish, I placed my friend in the holster about my waist and retired from the shop. There was a faint murmur sounding from the pie shop, telling me at least that Lucy was there. I had half expected her to run off- she was quite frightened in her forgetful frame of mind, and it frightened me. Perhaps I would thank Mrs Lovett for keeping her put, but most likely I knew I would forget or not bother.

"I'd never been taught how to make a pie before," Lucy said musingly as I listened tentatively at the door, afraid to enter straight away. "I could have made anything else. Casseroles, soup and broth, stews, and father had told me I could roast a duck well enough. Strange, with all of those you'd have thought pastry would have been easy enough."

"Best yeh were taught by ma'am," Toby's voice chirped. "Best pie maker in London, she is."

"Toby, now, don't go bragging."

"They are though, ma'am!"

Mrs Lovett chuckled, and I saw through the glass of the door- somehow unspotted, although I do not believe anyone took any notice of the fact that I was standing there- that she ruffled his hair playfully. It was strange, I thought. I did not know why, I just did not think it normal at all to ruffle the boy's hair. He was a distasteful little creature to me, like a pet rat.

Lucy sat demurely at the end of one of the booths, watching them both with curious eyes. I dearly wished she was smiling, and indeed she was, but it was not the smile you might expect to see. The smile was small, and most obviously there for the pleasure of Mrs Lovett. My brave dear.

At last, out of sheer interest, I opened the door and entered the pie shop. Lucy immediately hunched over, clinging to the cloth she had been wiping tables with earlier.

"Diane," Mrs Lovett said absent-mindedly, not having seen me. She turned, and gasped aloud as she saw me. "Oh, dear, Mr T, yeh shouldn't sneak up like that."

"Entering a room is not sneaking up, Mrs Lovett," I reminded her, moving towards Lucy and wrapping an arm around her waist. It did not escape my attention that she flinched.

"Why did you just call her Diane?" I asked suddenly to Mrs Lovett. She paused momentarily, her eyes flashing from me to Lucy once, and then smiled.

"It was 'er idea," she told me. "Remembered yeh said yeh're name's Sweeney Todd now, thought it was best she changed 'er name as well."

I nodded slowly, and then took hold of Lucy's chin, tilting her head up to look at me.

"It's me that should be worrying about those ideas," I assured her. "You can keep your name."

Lucy closed her eyes tightly, shaking. She opened her mouth to speak several times before she could whisper the words 'My name _is_ Diane'.

I only frowned, ignoring her. The poor thing, even after a day to think upon it, she still could not remember. I didn't dare think of the idea that she may never remember.

The room was silent, and I knew in that moment that both Toby and Mrs Lovett were staring at me and my wife. I did not care, and only held onto Lucy, knowing well enough they could not stare forever. At last, Lucy moved, pushing me away gently, or at least with very little energy. She sat wordlessly at the end of the booth again, looking towards the floor.

"I'm sure she's just tired," Mrs Lovett said quietly.

I thought it best to ignore the fact that Lucy shook her head at this comment.

"Then you should come back upstairs," I told her. "If you are so tired, that is."

"May I sleep down here?" she asked all of a sudden, her eyes wide. I looked at her sceptically.

"Down here?"

"I do not remember you," she said, nodding to herself earnestly. "How may I be expected to sleep in a room with a man I do not know?"

Her eyes were serious, although she still shook, as if cold, but determined with fear. The same look I could have sworn I once gave torturers and prison guards. I paused momentarily, prepared to clutch my heart as it broke, but stood still and grave.

Without another word, I nodded quickly, and departed.


	5. Diane Most Uncommonly

Mrs Lovett stayed obediently by my side that night, never once complaining despite the fact that I did so with a passion. Questions poured from my lips, hoping she could give me an answer that Mr Todd could not, or would not.

Yet she remained loyal to the man. I did not know why she refused to tell me anything. She had been kind enough to me, and played the part of a saviour in my angst. But she still would not tell me the things I wanted to know, and settled instead for resting my head against her bosom, holding me as if I were a child.

In her presence, I felt like one.

I learnt soon that there was a strange aura about Mrs Lovett. She was a kindly woman of a motherly nature, and the moment you knew her name you would revert to the child you once were, just so that she could hold you. I took no shame in allowing her to attempt to soothe me, although it did not work an ounce. I forever was distracted, looking up at he ceiling, knowing _he_ was there.

The night was thankfully quicker than the one that had come before. There were no eyes staring at me in the dark, nor a voice that spoke quietly yet sinisterly when I wished it desperately not to.

At last, when the morning came, I could barely hold my eyes open. I was as weary as I had been the night I first came to this place, but now I was more frightful than before. I knew now that I would not find the answers to questions I needed to ask, and I knew that the friendliest face I would see would be one that still lied to me.

Eight o'clock came, and Toby woke up eagerly, pulling the sleeve of the nightgown Mrs Lovett had given me for the night.

"Miss Diane!" he said excitedly- I had given him permission to use my first name- and smiling broadly. "Mrs Lovett said yeh'd be learning pastries today, didn't she?"

Mrs Lovett laughed, giving me one last embrace before standing. We had slept in the parlour that night, I too afraid of the idea of a stranger's bed. It was a strange sight, Toby curled up on the one man's arm chair while me and Mrs Lovett sat side by side on the longer sofa, neither of us sleeping as I wept silently.

"That I did, Toby," she said cheerfully as she patted his shoulder. "Go and wait in the shop, lad, and we'll be through in a tick."

Toby nodded, smiling at us both, and then practically ran off out of the parlour. I watched after him, a soft smile upon my lips. Mrs Lovett drew me close to her one last time, patting my shoulder with more of a sombre pace than she had done to Toby.

"Mr T'll be busy, love," she told me quietly. "We'll 'ave plenty of time before 'e comes looking for yeh."

"I don't want to have plenty of time, I want all the time in the world."

"Sometimes life ain't the way yeh wish it, dear." She sighed quietly, and then unleashed me, clapping her hands. "I suppose we should get dressed then. Can't keep Toby waiting, poor thing'll start up a storm before any of the pies are ready."

Mrs Lovett insisted on giving me one of her dresses- much too large for me, but I found that a corset sorted out the width, and all of her dresses were so low cut that once I had pulled it up to a normal height, it was only a few inches long, and if fate was really to be so cruel, I would have plenty enough time to stitch it up.

I did not bother much with my hair, thinking that hopefully this Mr Todd was easily disgusted. Perhaps being pretty was why I had this misfortune, and I could easily sort that out with enough care.

Toby took hold of my hand the moment that we came into the shop, pulling me behind the counter.

"Mrs Lovett, ma'am, yeh said we'd-"

"I've not forgotten, dear," she said, laughing to herself. "But hold yehr patience, I'm sure Diane's starving."

"I can wait," I said quietly, slightly amused at the boy's eagerness. He smiled brightly, nodding triumphantly to Mrs Lovett.

"Please, ma'am, can we start now?"

I smiled weakly, sitting nonchalantly on the end of a booth. I doubt that Toby noticed I was not taking part. He seemed quite caught up himself. Mrs Lovett looked over at me once or twice, smiling encouragingly, but although I smiled in acknowledgement I refused to take part. It was not that I did not want to, simply my mind was elsewhere. It had only been a day since I had been taken and hidden away, so I did not think it best to distract myself with something as trivial as pie-making.

The shop was as busy as it had been the day before. After the first batch of pies had been made, Mrs Lovett sent Toby off to take orders, serve drinks and generally bring in customers- although, I don't think it was needed, as customers seemed to flock to the shop anyway.

As my thoughts began to linger from the fact of my demise, I watched Toby with interest. When I had lived in York, my father had always had family members visiting us. He had many siblings, who all had children of their own. I was always entertained by my young cousins- for they all were much younger than I- and they had always seemed entertained enough by me. Father always said I had a knack with children, and it was no wonder why. They were interesting creatures.

I watched Toby, and my brow furrowed slightly. He was strange, even for a boy of his age. He smiled constantly, almost like a doll who had been made to look such a way. It was a perfect face for a pleased child, but I realised quite quickly that no child could be so happy.

"Yeh seem distracted, dear," Mrs Lovett said softly, suddenly appearing behind me. I did not look at her, still watching Toby at the other side of the shop.

"You said you are not Toby's mother, didn't you?"

"That's right."

"And I suppose Mr Todd isn't his father."

She uttered a single, high pitched laugh, patting my shoulder.

"Mr T? Toby'd barely manage a day with that man." She quickly sucked in her breath, biting her bottom lip. "I don't mean to frighten yeh, it's just that-"

"Why is he so happy, then?" I asked, ignoring her last comment. I did not wish to dwell on it.

"Why wouldn't 'e be, dear?"

"If he hasn't any parents, I wouldn't have thought it possible to be so cheerful."

Mrs Lovett sighed, putting an arm around my shoulder and pulling me behind the counter. She worked as she spoke to me, never ceasing once. I doubt I'd seen anyone like her before. It was uncommon for a woman to have such strength in her.

"Yeh ever 'eard of a bloke named Pirelli?"

"Of course. He came to our village once, if I recall correctly. Famous across the country."

"'e's popular around these parts as well." She paused. "Well, was. Toby was 'is apprentice of sorts before 'e came to us."

"Pirelli allowed you to adopt him?"

"That's the thing, ain't it? Didn't care an ounce for the boy. Beat 'im with every chance 'e could find."

I uttered quite a dramatic and yet appropriate gasp, putting my hand to my lips and looking fretfully at Toby, who still smiled on.

"The poor thing," I whispered, quite shocked.

"Suppose 'e's eager for any tenderness," she said, sighing sadly.

Nodding quietly, I could only stand there, thinking. It was such a cruel thing to happen, I almost found myself in tears. Although I tried to stop the thoughts, I did have to wonder what force would be cruel enough to have me taken away like this and little Toby, such an innocent thing, to be beaten by someone he worked for. In a mere two days, I had already learnt to doubt angels and saviours.

My head became light. I remember slightly that Mrs Lovett attempted to make me sit down, but I refused. I did not need rest- I needed distraction, and work was exactly the ticket. I ignored the fact that with every moment, I wished more and more simply to sleep, to lie down and forget everything. Instead, I kept going.

The evening drew to a close quickly, to my pleasure. The last few customers had disappeared and all that was left was to do was clean down the tables. Strange, really, as our servant Sophia never allowed me to do so. When I thought about it clearly, it was quite enjoyable being able to do work set before me.

Toby sat about for a while once all was cleaned up in the pie shop. When I say 'for a while', I mean that his childish impatience meant that he could not settle for long before he crawled in between me and Mrs Lovett. She was quick to clasp him in a motherly embrace, laughing to herself as Toby gibbered to us both of a topic with little importance to it. I listened patiently, my fingers twisting around each other with severe panic.

Noticing, Mrs Lovett all of a sudden stopped laughing.

"It's been a long day, dear, I think it's time you were off to bed," she whispered sweetly into Toby's ear.

"Yes, ma'am," he chirped, sliding off the sofa and jumping onto his usual armchair. Without another word, Mrs Lovett took hold of my arm and pulled me towards her bedroom. I reluctantly followed, still staring out towards the door to enter the parlour.

I sat down obediently on the edge of the bed where Mrs Lovett sat me, and watched her for a moment. She leant against her dressing table, biting her lower lip. Her eyes darted from me to the ceiling, the same petrified look on her face that I used only moments before. I lowered my eyes, feeling the sting of tears that threatened to appear.

"Yeh needn't cry," she said all of a sudden, her voice quiet and sincere. I wiped my hand across my eyes, not even realising I had already been betrayed.

"He hasn't come down yet," I muttered.

"Did yeh want 'im to?"

I shook my head.

"Of course not. But what does he wish of me if he does not wish my company?"

"Even I don't know, dear."

I winced, clutching the skirt of my night dress fiercely. Mrs Lovett sat down beside me, almost immediately taking me in her arms and rocking me gently like a child. She hushed me, pressing her lips to my forehead.

"My father will be looking for me," I said shakily. "He'll be looking for me, and he's not going to find me, I know it. Why would he look this far away?"

"I'm sure someone will notice yeh, we'll straighten this out at some point."

All of a sudden, there came a sound from outside the door. That is to say, a sound from the shop rather than someone knowing on the door. We both looked towards the sound, silent. I had abruptly stopped crying, and ignored the tears that still stained my cheeks.

"Not again," Mrs Lovett muttered, moving to the door.

"Who is it?"

"Yeh'd best stay 'ere, dear," she said, smiling gently.

"Who is it?" I repeated, rising slowly.

"I think yeh know who it is," she finally said matter-of-factly, sighing. "I am giving yeh a choice 'ere. Yeh don't 'ave to come through."

"Will he come here?"

"Perhaps."

I paused, then nodded sadly. Mrs Lovett took hold of my hand reassuringly and led me through the parlour. My glance caught Toby curled up on the arm chair, his eyes closed and soft sound of breathing coming from him. I would have smiled if I could, the sight was so sweet.

We entered the shop, and as Mrs Lovett had expected, there Mr Todd stood, leaning against the bar with a glass and bottle in front of him. He turned his head slightly to look at us, a slight curl on his lips as if he were smiling. I froze, my fists clenched.

"I've not seen much of you today," he said quietly, turning fully to look at us.

"She's been working," Mrs Lovett told him.

"Working?"

"I wanted to," I murmured, looking at the floor. There was a moment silence before Mrs Lovett decided to break it- I soon realised she was not one to stand something like quiet.

"Is there anything yeh wanted, Mr T? Only I'm sure Diane 'ere-"

"You're quite adamant on the name?" Mr Todd queried to me, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"But, sir, it is my name."

He sighed, and then moved towards me, wrapping his arm about my shoulder in a swift movement.

"You know I shan't use it, not while I still have a choice in the matter."

"Please," I implored as I pushed his arm away from me, "do not touch me with such ease, sir, it is most uncommonly."

"Uncommonly?" he asked, his features soft again. "Please, I may make allowance if you can not remember me, but Lucy, do not pretend there is not even the slightest chance-"

"Mr Todd, you will do well not to refer to me as Lucy."

Mr Todd looked at me, a pained expression upon his features. I did think for a moment whether it was an expression to be pitied or not, but then tensed again. What silly thoughts I was having! Pity can not be given to those who do not deserve it.

Tentatively holding his arm up, as if about to touch me again, Mr Todd paused. Finally, he let the arm drop heavily to his side and his features hardened again as he spoke.

"I shall want to see you tomorrow," he said sternly. "It does not serve your memory well if we are constantly kept away from each other like this."

"Maybe yeh shouldn't talk about that to the poor girl," Mrs Lovett said, placing her hands on my shoulders. "Yeh know it frightens 'er."

I expected him at that moment to argue, but he simply turned on his heel and abandoned us. My clenched fist relaxed the moment the door closed, and Mrs Lovett seemed to think me weak all of a sudden to the point of fainting. Her arms wrapped about me tightly, rocking me slightly as she had done before.

"I don't want to see him tomorrow," I mumbled, embracing her in return.

"I know yeh don't, dear."

"What must I do to prove my name?" I wondered aloud, dazed past the point of caring. "He most obviously needs proof of it, so what must I do?"

Mrs Lovett held her breath for a moment, then exhaled carefully. She held me by the upper arm and stared at me. I had to concentrate so hard so as not to cry at her expression of graveness.

"Yeh said yeh father's in Pemberly Court?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Yeh know the exact address?"

"By heart, ma'am."

She smiled half-heartedly, then nodded almost triumphantly.

"Then get dressed, dear," she said firmly. "I swear by it, I've been stuck in a place like this for over fifteen years. It ain't gonna 'appen to yeh. Don't look at me like that, and there's no reason to be crying now either. Just trust me, I've got it all sorted out for yeh."


	6. Sweeney Open Minded

I stared out of the window through the majority of my time the next day. Everything was quiet- nearly silent, even- and peaceful enough to leave me with my thoughts. Those thoughts had been returned safely to the Judge, a much safer option to contemplating Lucy's…well, simply Lucy. The way she had looked at me so fretfully, and spoke in a way to match.

A faint smile came to my lips as I watched out the window. I assured myself of everything that Mrs Lovett had told me that morning, determined that Lucy would return as she had told me. I still held the letter that she had given me in my hand. I knew I did not need to read it to verify what Mrs Lovett had said, but I had never been one to listen to common sense.

_Dear Mr Todd,_

_While helping Mrs Lovett in the pie shop yesterday afternoon, who should enter but my old friend Marie! A face I could not possibly forget, and believe me, I was so excitable I completely forgot to tell you last night when we met again._

_Our kind Marie being the way she is, she offered me stay at her home with her husband. I do hope that I have not troubled you by taking up the offer to do so, but upon recognising her I realised how much I have missed her over the years, and we both agreed it was best I should be with a friend who could try to help me in this time of need rather than me waiting to remember you._

_This is for the best, I can promise you. I shall return when I remember you as the man you tell me you are, and shall not wait a moment later._

_Until that time, Mr Todd, I thank you for your hospitability over the past few days._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Miss Diane Ashwood_

Sighing with slight annoyance- she had signed her name Diane- I folded the letter neatly, sliding it into my pocket. I could not remain annoyed, though, as I knew well enough she believed it to be her name. The poor thing! If only I had not gone, this would not have happened.

No, I told myself, scolding my ignorance. It was not at all my fault. If I had had a choice in the matter, then perhaps yes, I could have argued, but I had not done anything at all to harm my darling, my sweet- if I had the chance to do so I would not have! It was not I who harmed her in this way. It had been the Judge! Judge Turpin!

My breath much heavier than it had been before, I turned abruptly to the door. It was about time that I opened the salon again for the day. My patience had been pushed, and I felt the need to put my razor to use.

With the sign turned, I had but to wait until the first man came to me. There must have been five that day that I had managed to rid the world of- men who proved their horrific natures, I am proud to say. The first one to enter simply shed his coat and handed it to my abruptly without blinking. He smiled smugly, scratching his chin.

"You seem in a very mood today, sir," I commented as he began to chuckle to himself.

"Bloody marvellous day," he affirmed, nodding to it. "Special acquaintances to meet up with, if you know what I mean."

"Of course, sir," I muttered, mixing the lather. I had already decided this man would die, but I was ever so slightly intrigued by this point. Perhaps this woman- I am not one to think of such pathetic stories as 'special acquaintances'- was waiting downstairs.

"To be honest, today couldn't come soon enough," he huffed, still smug in his own manner. "The wife's been at it all day."

"Your wife?"

"Seems to think I don't do enough for her these days."

"Are you not meeting a young lady today, sir?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" he said, his tone suddenly sharp. "I'm not going to. Saying it out loud makes for difficulties."

"I see."

I looked from the man to the lather pot I held in my hand, thinking. At last, I nodded slightly to myself, and was decided.

"What's taking you so long?" the man asked rudely.

"You see, sir, I more often than not with lather a man for his own dignity," I replied, my tone so serious that the man had to look at me to be sure what I said was true.

"What?"

"Before a customer dies, sir. More often than not they seem innocent enough to give such dignity to, but I'm afraid, sir, you've defied such privileges."

With a swift movement, he was dead, not having the chance for even a last sound or breath.

For the rest of the day my chair was stained by ruthless men, those who owned orphanages, who worked in the courts, and those who, like the first, were unable to hold their tongues or marriage vows. I took pride in the fact I could rid the world of such people. It seemed I had served it well by such actions. By the death of these men, I cleansed the world. It was all that kept me sane, I believed, knowing that I did such with good purpose, even if only I could see it.

Mrs Lovett came to the salon twice through the day, bringing a tray each time and chattering nonsensically. I do believe sometimes the years alone had driven her mad, but I never said so out loud. I doubt she would have listened to me, and if she did, her tendency to speak with a foot in her mouth would have induced another foot.

That evening, as usual, I left my shop only for an hour- no more, no less- to cart the bodies around the bake house over to the table where Mrs Lovett later did her own part of the business. She seemed calm enough about her work, which either disturbed me or caused me to admire her slightly. It was not often a woman could stomach the idea of dead bodies. A slight shudder ran through me- I certainly knew that even if she wanted to I would never have allowed Lucy to take the job upon her. I wondered for a moment what on earth Albert Lovett had ever done to Mrs Lovett to make her so…strong.

"Yeh alright there, Mr T?" Mrs Lovett asked all of a sudden, not even looking up from the man she was hacking at.

"Of course," I grunted, slightly amused at how casual the conversation was despite our actions.

"No, yeh ain't. Yeh've been down ever since this morning."

"Haven't noticed."

"She said she'd come back to yeh," she said quietly, all of a sudden more serious. "Yeh don't think she'd lie to yeh, do yeh?"

"I never thought I'd see her again, am I really in any position to doubt what she would say?"

"Ah, love, yeh can't doubt 'er now, can yeh? Not the polite thing to do after so many years."

"Politeness had little to do with it."

Mrs Lovett slowed down in her task, looking off past the body and to her own small world. It was a dazed look I had seen on Lucy once or twice, but there was more tension to the gaze than I had seen needed before. I put it past me, looking down disgustedly at the blood on my sleeves.

"Can yeh be sure, Mr T?" she asked curiously.

"Of what?"

"Yeh know what, love."

I stared at her for a moment- or, to put the word better, glared.

"Do you think me a fool? I know my wife well enough to notice her when she is standing in front of me."

"I admit they look alike, it's true."

"They are the same person. I don't care if she still wishes for this silly pseudonym- I have one myself!- but she is still Lucy Barker."

"'ow can yeh be sure it's still Barker?"

"She would not have remarried."

"A girl can do desperate things when she's forced to."

"Lucy already loved me," I said clearly. "She had my child. I don't think it the same as escaping the streets."

Her shoulders braced slightly, a sharp intake of breath sounding through the bake house. The corner of my lip turned up almost maliciously. It was a pleasure of some sort to put her in her place, to at least have those few minutes of silence. However, she was a woman of strange mental ability, and was prepared to speak with only moments of recovery.

"I wouldn't dare compare me own troubles to yehrs, yeh know that, but she might 'ave."

"Lucy would have told me if she were married."

"Yeh can't be sure, love."

I turned sharply, heaving the last body over my shoulder and onto the table. Mrs Lovett stared at the figure for a few moments, then looked towards me uneasily. I shook my head almost pitifully, deciding my own job was done.

"I think it best you hold your tongue on certain things you shouldn't let your mind wander in."

"Or maybe yeh'll 'ave to keep yeh own mind open."


	7. Diane Find Him

Dragging the case that Mrs Lovett had given me through London, a sense of lifted sorrows came upon me. I smiled, the feature never leaving me. There was light flooding the streets, meaning that I wasn't prone to the same idiocy and accident-prone nature as I was those few nights ago.

I could have turned back at that moment, if I had the courage, simply to kiss Mrs Lovett upon the cheek and to exclaim her ingenuous. Forever I would be at her debt, even if I was never to see her again. It was strange to say the least to hear her reel off the different names of people she knew that this Lucy had been friends with. The plot made little sense to me until the paper and ink had been placed before me.

I hadn't taken a second look back to Fleet Street when I had gone. I had tried not to think about it at all, but some things may be impossible. Perhaps I will never forget about the time I had spent there, however much I tried.

Soon after my escape, I found a small room to be rented, just for the night. I knew it would be impossible to find my father under the strain of fatigue. My heart lifted slightly at the very thought. I had not much liked the idea of coming to London, I had been quite comfortable as it was staying put, but never before had I been so ecstatic about finding my home- nay, about anything in my life!

Though, as I lay in the cold bed of the rented room, I felt ever so slightly dazed. I had herd dreadful stories of girls having been kidnapped, and in my position, they had been so much better acquainted with their kidnapper. A slight curiosity came upon me, but I thought it best to ignore such curiosity. Why should I have to care the slightest about a man who so freely stole young girls from the streets? I should have cursed his very name, but I could not do so when I knew so little about it. In fact, my mind had screamed out so loudly at the mention of his name that I was unsure I even knew it.

Mr Todd…

I shuddered simply thinking of the name, whether it was his or not. Clutching the covers around me, I closed my eyes, trying to sleep. Yet his face still kept appearing in front of me, those harsh features that looked at me with such a longing, such a sadness. His haunted face. I tried desperately to think of Mrs Lovett and that motherly face that had allowed me to sleep the minimal amount of time I had over the past few days.

Having very little sleep, and more than enough worries to tide me through the night, I gathered my suitcase again and took to the streets. London was now a much more crowded place, and I knew very well that I was no longer in any danger at all. The previous night had held doubt in my mind, but now the people about me gave me assurance I was safe enough. I could not help but fret over the idea that if I found my father, he may not find me in such crowds. Passing this thought to the back of my mind, I carried on.

A smile was still laid on my lips at this point. The sun was as bright as I could have hoped it would be, bathing me in warmth. I hadn't realised until that moment how cold the world had been. I was only glad that I had left before I could forget that I was cold at all.

I walked slowly, savouring the moments where I did not need to rush, and where I was by myself with a determination to be found again. I never once contemplated the idea I might be walking too slowly. Mr Todd was far behind me now. Even Mrs Lovett was long gone. Little Toby too. Fleet Street. Everything was gone now, and I would never have to return.

Never.

I must have been walking for at least an hour. My feet were beginning to protest, and I was losing breath. I had not before had to walk alone for so long, and nor had I ever had to do my corset myself, so in my stupidity it had been fastened far too tightly. I held a hand to my stomach, fearing I was near fainting, but my eagerness far surpassed the need to pass out.

All of sudden, my heart dropped as a hand gripped my arm firmly. I was spun on my heel until I faced a man- a boy even, no older than myself- with a fevered expression on his countenance. I squealed out loud, shocked and yet fearing the face which I saw.

"Johanna?" he said breathily, as if he had been running a great distance.

"Johanna? I have heard of none!" My breast rose rapidly in haste, and I struggled against the hand that still held me firmly. Quickly, though, it released me, and the man straightened himself, brushing his hair from his flustered face.

"I'm sorry- very sorry, miss, I thought-"

"I was somebody else," I finished for him, nodding knowingly. I sighed, before adding, "Everyone all of a sudden seems to think me somebody else."

"Excuse me, miss?"

I looked at the man for a moment, smiling weakly at the earnest and curious expression on his features. He was a handsome boy, to say the least, and I can not deny I was ever so slightly distracted.

"I seem to have been noticed, as of late, as people I haven't a clue about."

"You simply reminded me ever so much of…someone."

I watched over his face curiously, seeing the trace of loss I had seen much more drastically beforehand.

"Who is Johanna?" I asked, although I felt I had much overstepped my boundaries by asking. Yet it seems I only excited the boy, whose face was immediately earnest, bright was information.

"Oh, miss, ever such a beautiful girl. As I said, she looked curiously like yourself, and I saw her not long ago, and we were to be married, miss! But her guardian has taken her away somewhere, and it is my sworn duty to find her."

"Sworn duty? I thought that a fairytale term."

"Perhaps it is. I feel as if I have found the fair maiden, she is such a dear thing. I have only to find her and we shall be married, with the help of my friend."

"I suppose with my luck I should be at all like this friend of yours?" I chuckled.

"Ah, miss, I wouldn't joke about that. Your ever such a beauty, I will admit, and Mr Todd certainly-"

"Mr Todd?" I asked, slightly dizzy.

"My friend. Do you know of him? He owns a shop on Fleet Street."

"I recall the name," I said faintly.

"He may not be eager but he's willing enough to help. It's been ever such a help, I promise you."

I nodded, smiling slightly.

"I should be leaving now," I said. "My father will be waiting for me." I nodded briskly, bidding him goodbye, but before I could leave he caught my arm again.

"Where are you heading to, might I ask?"

"My father is in Pemberly Court," I said. "I think I will be heading there."

"I've never heard of the place."

"I've begun to think it a myth myself, really."

"Then I wish you good journeys," he said, bowing slightly and turning quickly to leave. A moment later, he turned a corner and disappeared.

I stared at the corner he had left by for only a second, and then carried on down the pathway as well. I shook the whole encounter off my mind, but for some reason that boy's face stuck in my mind. Perhaps it was only because of his friendship with this Mr Todd- I could not, would not, believe it, Mr Todd was such a brusque man and the boy seemed so tender- but it caused me to think of him for some time after.

I don't know how long I walked around, asking people who happened to be kind enough to stop when requested if they knew where Pemberly Court was, but apparently I had wandered into the complete opposite side of London, and no one had had the fortune to live in such a place. It was the first time I had thought of the idea that we might be better off than some- I had assumed it simply a house, but the neighbourhood itself was renowned as 'rich'.

When I finally thought to at least ask a police officer, they proved no more useful information wise. I sighed to myself, irritated that London should be so large, and home so far away.

I didn't really know what I was doing. That was the conclusion I came to by the time evening fell. I didn't know what I was doing, and how I would ever figure it out. All I knew was that at some point, I would have to.


	8. Sweeney Her Own Lips

With the assurance Mrs Lovett gave me, I didn't bother to count the days that Lucy had been gone. As long as I was sure she was safe with her friend, I was fine. Yet a slight impatience came upon me, as without counting the days I began to think time had passed by much quicker.

"She said she would come back," I muttered, polishing my razor by the window as Mrs Lovett sat at the barber chair. She had taken to sitting in my shop for quite a while now, visiting almost every day.

"She said she'd come back when the time is right."

"What stops now being the right time?" I asked, throwing the cloth I had been using to the floor.

"Not everyone's as impatient as yeh are, love."

"Impatient? There's no impatience in the question."

"Mr T, yeh're not exactly letting things take their course, now, are yeh? She'll come when she wants to."

I sighed, dropping my razor onto the desk, and then returning again to the window. I couldn't help but try and find Lucy among the crowds down below. I knew it was hopeless, but I didn't care. Had it not been hopeless to see her again? And yet there she had been, right in front of my eyes. I disallowed myself to doubt for a second, although I was sure I needed to direct my thoughts elsewhere.

"No one's 'eard much from that judge, yeh know," Mrs Lovett said all of a sudden, as if reading my mind.

"What concern is that of mine?"

"Just thought yeh might like to know," she said, shrugging. "Yeh always bite me head off if I don't tell yeh these kinda things."

I grunted in reply. There was no real point in denying it, but as childish as it was, I daren't have said she were right. I doubted she would ever leave me be if I admitted it. Holding my tongue firmly, I paced the floor, glancing over at the woman still lounging in my chair as if without a care in a world. She still did not seem to wish to leave- how moronic of me, of course she did not _wish_ to- and I felt the urge to use force against her if she would not go of her own free will.

At least an hour must have passed before she finally chose to stand., sighing heavily as if she had done any of the work she had most likely set Toby to do.

"The dinner rush's gonna be big, I can tell," she muttered as she left. "I'll bring yeh tea later, Mr T."

"You needn't bother," I said clearly. "I am not hungry."

"Yeh will be when the time comes around, love, so don't you fuss."

The door closed quietly behind her, as it did every evening about this time. I picked up my razor, my friend, once more, flicking it open and closed tiredly. I did not expect too many customers tonight, as there weren't many who came on Saturday evenings. It was something that I could never fathom, as there was always Sunday to rest- they did not need to avoid Saturdays.

I watched through the window, the only part of life I had left for the day now was to watch the crowds enter the pie shop. There was little entertainment in it, but a slight pleasure washed over me as I realised each and every single one of them was eating the fruit of my labours- the evils I had destroyed. It was satisfying in one way or another, but to think how would most certainly have driven me more mad than it would have beforehand.

Weary of the sight, I took hold of the frame containing Lucy's picture on the table top, looking at it fondly. It was strange to say the least, to still think of her with such loss. She would return in days, perhaps even tomorrow. I could not deny the likelihood of such was slim, but I thought not long ago I would be dead. Fate makes fools of us all.

There was little time after the rush was done- I having made little from the single customer who came upstairs, their family alongside them- when Mrs Lovett appeared again, carrying a tray of food to me.

"What did I tell yeh?" she said cheerfully. "Rush to beat them all, really. Me bones feel ready to drop, they do. Toby's off clearing the tables, the little lad."

"I don't care where Toby is," I said bluntly and truthfully.

"Be that as it may, I'll always tell yeh anyway. 'ad any business, love?"

Although I didn't look away from the window, I shook my head curtly. It seemed that she understood, and sighed before sitting in my chair, carrying out the tradition she had started. I momentarily looked, irritated, then turned back to the view outside.

"Not again," I growled as I saw a figure running up to the shop."

"'im again?" Mrs Lovett asked tiredly.

I did not have time to answer before the door swung open as Anthony entered the room, flustered and yet his face solemn. It had been so for a week already, without sign of my daughter. I had long lost hope, but he was still determined as ever, coming to us regularly to repetitively tell us of the fact nothing had been found out.

"I haven't disturbed you, Mr Todd, have I?"

"Not at all, lad," I muttered, waving him into the room. Despite my annoyance to him, I felt no reason for rudeness to the boy who had found me in the ocean. It would defy everything I had ever taught myself to believe in prison.

"Yeh 'eard anything, dear?" asked Mrs Lovett, straightening slightly in the chair.

"Quite sadly, no, ma'am," he replied, scratching his head in thought. "I could have sworn I had seen her on the streets, though."

"Really?" I asked, suddenly thinking.

"Yes, 'e _thought_ 'e did, Mr T. Short story, really, but at least might give yeh a little push to find 'er."

"Perhaps, ma'am," Anthony said excitedly. "It was ever so strange-"

"Lovely story," Mrs Lovett interrupted, insistent. "Now, I don't think it best to dwell on this. It isn't evening conversation, is it?"

"True, ma'am, true as always," he admitted, although he sounded put down by the fact.

"I myself am intrigued," I said, moving forward. "Not many people would look like Johanna- I assume," I added hurriedly.

"Quite rightly, Mr Todd!" he cried out, again happy in his information. "I was not far from here, perhaps two streets west of Mrs Mooney's pie shop-" at this, Mrs Lovett tutted pityingly, "-when I saw a young girl at the other side of the street. I only saw her from behind, and by the packages and trunks she carried I assumed she was travelling- nay, escaping! I hoped in that instant that it was Johanna, and that she had managed to run away from whatever place she had been taken to. The girl indeed had hair so similar to Johanna's, any other person would have been fooled. I went to the girl earnestly, and upon seeing her face I was still ever so confused. The girl was still the image of my Johanna, but at the same time I could see the very slightest of differences."

"That's all very interesting," Mrs Lovett said through gritted teeth. "But I really don't think it's a topic we should discuss."

"She carried trunks?" I asked curiously, my mind racing. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, she seemed intent on travel. Mr Todd, perhaps you might have known her, she seemed ever so strange when I mentioned your name."

"Did she?" I asked faintly.

"Very much so. I apologise, I was unable to find her name out, but you may at least know of a girl with such yellow hair?"

"Perhaps," I said, my mouth dry suddenly. "Where did you say this was?"

"Nearby Mrs Mooney's," he said. "I'm not sure of the road."

"Then I must leave now," I said hurriedly, assuring that my razor was in the holster before turning to the door.

"Mr T?" Mrs Lovett called anxiously, grabbing my arm before I could go.

"I will speak to you later," I said firmly, shaking her off.

The two of them said my name one last time before I closed the door, and was unable to hear them. With my jacket in one hand, I bound down the stairs and walked briskly across the street. How foolish I had been! I had known that there had been far too much time for her simply to be waiting. I cared not at that moment why she had left, nor if she wished to be found. All I cared for was finding her, if only to hear from her own lips why she was gone.


	9. Diane I Hate You

The streets were still frightening, even more so now that a night had passed. I had only enough money for one night in a hotel, having expected someone to have taken me to my father. To my distain, it did not happen, and I was forced to a nearby park where I was sheltered by trees. Not in my whole life had I ever expected such misfortune to fall upon me. I was only lucky that I had not been found, I think.

Immediately after awakening, I sought my way back to a main pathway so as to find my way home. It was strange to realise I did not know exactly where home was. All I knew was that to find it, I would have to keep searching. I hoped for a while that maybe I would find my father walking the streets, in turn looking for me. By midday, it still had not happened, and so I simply persevered, determined.

I realised at two o'clock perhaps how ravenous I really was. My mind wandered slightly as my stomach began to control my head, but with enough persuasion I managed to concentrate only on what was ahead of me. I asked a fair amount of people where Pemberly Court was, and even more people where I was at that moment in time. I had long lost my boundaries, and was, to say the least, lost.

The day was quick, to say the least, and I felt as if no time at all had gone by since I had awoken to the moment when the streets started to become ever so slightly darker. People started to rush across the streets, frightened to be stuck outside in the night. I looked from a distance as they started to fret at such an early hour. I barely thought that the sun had moved in the sky, but it seemed it had. I didn't much see the difference, but nonetheless started to panic ever so slightly. I had nowhere to go that night, and would not turn back to the park I had been the previous night so as t return to this point again.

I entered what seemed to be a large market place, and saw that due to the hour many people were hiring their coached, joining others they knew. A soft look of longing came upon my face as I saw them, but I forced myself to let out such hopeful wishes with a heavy sigh and pushed onward.

Everything happened so slowly after that moment.

A few people who were running by pushed me as they went, unable to apologise. I felt more lost than ever, and wished nothing more than simply to be rid of the place I had all of a sudden become trapped in. My head rushed slightly with the adrenaline of it all, and I could not in all truth see exactly where I was going.

I could hear, though.

I could hear one voice in particular, somehow ringing in my ear. I thought nothing of it for a while until it started to become so much clearer. Do not ask how it became clearer, it was simply so familiar that it did. A fear came upon me, as well as the strangest delight.

Moments must have gone by- mere moments- before I recognised the voice. I spun quickly on my heel, looking towards the road that ran past the market where people were still awaiting coaches. It was then that I realised who I had heard speaking, whose voice had sounded so familiar. There stood a figure with the same hazel hair I remembered, with grey hairs that betrayed his calm composure. The same gentle face that looked off towards a coming coach, but did not see me no matter how close I walked to him.

I realised too late that I should have spoken.

My father stepped towards the carriage that awaited him, and I moved quickly towards him, yet unable to call for him. The door closed behind him, and the very second before I could tap upon the door, the horses that drew the coach started to trot. I gathered my pace, but however much I tried, I could not catch up.

Summoning my breath, and ignoring all of the stares around me, I stared at the carriage that kept up its pace, and called out to my father. My voice must have come out barely above a whisper, and I could not even hear myself. I kept whispering his name, trying to at last shout.

"Wait!" I shouted at last, more heads turning. "Wait, Father, I'm here!"

He would not stop, and the coach still went on going.

"Father!"

The pace still picked up, and wouldn't slow, no matter how much I called out.

"Please, slow down!"

At last, my feet betrayed me, and I stumbled to the floor in the middle of the road. I bowed my head in defeat, tears of anguish already running down my cheeks. Voices muttered around me, pitying and judgemental. Each voice echoed in my ear, however hazy they sounded to me.

"Please," I murmured under my breath, unable to find my feet to stand. "Turn around, please…"

He didn't.

The corner welcomed his carriage, and within moments he was gone. I could only stare for a moment, ignoring all the voices that told me to move, even the neighing of a waiting horse.

"Get yourself off the road!" the coach driver yelled carelessly. I looked up abruptly, my tears blurring my vision. With a loud sob, I gathered my skirts and darted from the road, wiping the tears with the back of my hand. The driver cursed as I left, but what should I care for that?

I didn't stop my feet from carrying me wherever they deemed fit. I did not question them in my mind, for there was little use in such. I no longer cared. Whatever rush of delight may have come to me as people expressed their worry was gone the moment I passed them. I wept freely now, the tears fighting against me with all their might.

I don't know why I ran. I could just have easily ran for the carriage- soon enough I would find my home. I was certain of it once I thought about it long enough. But I was foolish enough to think that running would help. I was foolish to think that because one incident left me heartbroken, the world had given up on me. That my own father had given up on me. I was decided on such things, and I expect that it was those decisions that damned me in life.

The afternoon soon passed, and by the time the sun started to set, I didn't know where I was. My head swam as I stopped, and the adrenaline that drove me still rushed through my veins. I caught my breath, not knowing how long I had been running. I was alone down the street I was on, and assured in the safety I found I was in.

The street, as I have said, was empty, and I was able to lean against a wall without questioning from anyone around me. An odd peace settled, enveloping me in the tranquillity. I never expected it to last, but I was far too deep in it that I would never have liked to think about such. A soft wind rattled across me, causing the tears to freeze me.

In my fatigue, I found myself sitting on the floor, laying my head lightly on the wall. As quickly as I had begun, I'd stopped sobbing loudly, and now only silent tears fell now. I gasped aloud for breath, the weeping having been utterly inappropriate for running, something that was never my forte.

The sun had now set, and all that could be heard were distant voices, and all that could be seen was the distant lights of houses, and lampposts being lit. I sighed shakily, deciding it best to gather my things and find a place to hide away for the night. I cursed bitterly to myself as I realised I only had a small quantity left as I had forgotten my trunk at the market, and only had the bag Mrs Lovett had given me along with a spare dress. It was admittedly thin, so as to fit into the bag- a large carpet one I was now grateful for lumbering with me. This allowed me now only a small pleasure, but one that I now grasped to with a desperate passion that engulfed me now.

Soon, such pleasure started to leave me as I realised I held happiness in something as small as a bag, my last possession. I slipped it off my shoulder and held it to my chest, embracing it as if it were a child's toy. My tears fell onto the material, soaking it. My throat was far too soar to make a sound, but my tears spoke for me. It was simply a joy that there was no one there to listen.

At least, I didn't expect there was anyone to see me, to see me cry. The light was dim, but I was most certainly sure that no one could see me. I was simply not sure that, if I could speak, anyone would hear me. I looked around, clutching the bag tightly. Indeed, after a few minutes silence, I could hear voices. I started to tremble, something all too familiar about the situation.

"No," I whispered, my throat burning. "No, no, it-" I cut myself off with a sharp intake of breath, unable to bring myself to even think it.

There, not too far away, only yards down the street, I saw _him_.

He was not the _he_ I had not expected. No…not at all. Instead, I found myself again in a position I had feared ever since the very night Mr Todd had found me (I despised to consider the idea that he had in fact saved me, not simply found me).

"Well, well, well," said the figure. "Here we are again."

"Y-you…" I faded off again, seeing the man appear into brighter light. It was, as my deepest fearful suspicions had warned me, the man who had attacked me in that alleyway. Yet again I found myself entranced by his smooth voice, one made to fool women into believing innocent intentions. I could not longer be fooled, but I could be frightened.

"Seems I was right about you," he said, a sneer in his voice. "Sitting in the gutter…you might as well have just not kicked up a fuss last time, mightn't you?"

"Please…"

"I might have been kinder on you, you know."

"Please, I beg of you-"

"But now," he laughed, "I might just take what I was looking for before."

I opened my mouth, trying to scream, but no sound escaped me. I scrambled frantically to summon myself to my feet as the man came towards me, his steps nonchalant and yet heated, coming quickly. Before I knew it, his hand was grappling at me, tearing my bag away from me, which I held closely as if it would in any manner help me.

"Hiding something, are we?" he sneered. "What can be so important you wouldn't show me?"

"I-it's not yours," I stammered.

He laughed maliciously, and at last tore the bag from my hands, and smiled cruelly before looking inside.

"Oh, now, my suspicions are confirmed," he tutted. "On the streets before, and now carrying around undergarments for safe keeping. Are you expecting me to pay, love?"

"N-no, I'm not-"

"Because," he said, gripping my shoulder tightly, "I never pay my whores."

I shook, and with a strength one only summons in fear, I pulled his arm away from me and ran. In what direction, I'm not sure, nor was I sure how quickly he followed me. I heard his breath almost in my ear, I could hear him cursing. My own breath picked up again, and before long I could not fathom how I was carrying on.

"You're not going to get away!" he hollered, picking up speed. "Not again, not this time!"

All of a sudden, his form came crashing into mine, his arms enveloping me and pinning me against the nearest wall. His lips covered mine, greedily kissing me with much less tenderness than before, however false it had been. One hand came to my throat, stopping my from screaming. I struggled with all my might, but he still would not let go.

"Please," I gasped, "please, let me go!"

"Dear, if I've learnt something over the years, it's never let go someone like you when the opportunity comes along," he muttered as he left me be for air. "Deeming your pretty dresses you're still young- never had the likes of you before."

His lips pressed against me again, this time hungrily sucking at my neck in a crude manner. I winced, closing my eyes tightly so as to ignore whatever it was he was doing to me. I felt his other hand upon my breast, fervently roaming my form. I probably could have hit him then, but I dared not, lest he should squeeze my throat tighter.

Just then, a cold breeze came upon the spot where he had kissed me. I did not know why until I noticed his hand no longer gripped my throat. His voice uttered a terrified scream before it was cut off by a gargled choking sound.

I sighed, releasing all of the air I had been holding in my lungs. My fingers lay upon my throat lightly, and I felt the slight mark he had left on it. My legs gave way and I fell to the floor, but even without the weight of standing I still felt weak. I could not open my eyes, both in fear and fatigue.

"Lucy," I heard a voice- not a new voice, but one I had not heard in days- say in a impassioned tone. "Lucy, please, speak, say something."

I desperately tried to speak, just to banish the person from me.

"Dear God, Lucy, please. Say anything- say my name! Lucy, please, say my name!" My brow furrowed in pain as I summoned my energy to find my voice, to find any breath in my to speak.

"M-Mr Todd…"

"Yes! Yes, Lucy, you remember. My Lord, what has he done to you?"

"W-where is h-he?" I asked shakily, my eyes watering with the pain.

"That is not important, my dear, please do not fret over such matters. He can't hurt you any more, I swear my life on it."

My eyes opened slightly, enough to see at least the slumped figure on the floor nearby. I winced again as I saw the red substance surrounding the form, and looked up into those dark eyes I remembered distantly.

"Y-you-"

"It does not matter, Lucy, it does not matter. Please, how on earth did you get here?"

My mind raced at those very words, and my eyes that once watered not over spilled, and I could not contain the tears any more. They dropped down my cheeks, and I gaped for words to describe whatever pain I felt- I now could not even distinguish it.

"He- he didn't c-come…"

Mr Todd seemed confused, but did not say a single word about it. With a gentle sigh, he picked me up in his arms easily. I choked on my own tears, crying hysterically all of a sudden. I wept into his chest, clinging to his shirt. There was nothing else to hold, and by God I could not handle the thought of being alone. I felt a slight warmth knowing that now, whatever fate had in store for me, I was safe for at least the night. Mr Todd seemed a man of intentions far beyond my knowledge, but I knew that he would never harm anyone- far less likely a woman- while in such a state.

I looked up at him through teary eyes, his features becoming clearer. I still trembled from fear, and I doubt I would have been able to say anything of structure. Slowly, with a shaking hand, I placed my hand upon his cheek. He flinched as I touched him, as if I had touched him with a red-hot poker. He looked down at me, then smiled softly.

"I'm sorry I have nothing warmer for you to wear."

"I ask for nothing," I said quietly.

"What is the matter?"

"May I ask if I must come back with you?"

"You do not yet remember me?" he asked painfully. I paused.

"I believe there is nothing for me to remember."

"Then…I shall have to remind you. Lucy, you can not deny being my wife."

I paused, wrapping the arm I had used to touch his cheek with around his neck, as if embracing him.

"I shan't admit it," I said bitterly. "There is nothing to admit."

"I accept the challenge," he said lightly.

"Mr Todd…" I trailed off, not knowing quite how to phrase it.

"Yes?"

"I hate you."


	10. Sweeney Your Husband

I had sat by her bedside throughout the whole night. She had fainted after those last three words, those three words I dare not remember, and I had been forced to care for her. Mrs Lovett was slightly dazed that I had found her again, but I had not had a chance to speak to the woman. Not that I cared for the idea of doing so, but nonetheless I had not done so.

Lucy, to say the least, had not rested easily. It tortured me to listen to her mumbling the names of people I had never heard, crying out for her father constantly. She woke early in the morning, screaming, but I am not entirely sure if she knew so. I was sure after the short incident that she had gained a fever, and with determination I vowed not to leave her bedside for that day.

Mrs Lovett came to the flat not long after the sun had risen, carrying a tray of food. Her face was much more solemn than usual, but I took no notice.

"Remember to eat something, Mr T," she said quietly.

"I'm busy right now."

"She ain't waking up in a while, yeh might as well eat to build yeh strength."

"I'm not going to be distracted, Mrs Lovett."

"Well, now, yeh ain't gonna do any good to 'er while yeh're malnourished."

I still would not look at her, so she at last gave up on trying to make me eat. She sighed pointedly and left the room, asking me to at least think about the idea. I little like to point out the obvious, but I didn't dwell on it for a second. As Lucy groaned in the pain of another rush of the fever, I dutifully bathed her forehead with the flannel always kept by me at this time.

Even after the horrors I had seen, I was forced to close my eyes with such a simple task. A thin cut framed the left side of her face where she had hit the wall, and both her body and face were bruised to the point where I could barely distinguish the pale skin beneath them. The very thought made me wince out loud. Soon, her struggling slowed, and she rested again peacefully.

In those moments of rest, although I tried, I could not stop but think of the state I found her in. I could not help but repent on my very soul, if I had any left, because of the pain I had caused. If only I hadn't let her go, if only I had gotten there sooner. If only I hadn't given her reason to leave. Her memory still was lost to her, and it was heartbreaking to see her in such distress. Once upon a time there had never been a single need for her anguish, yet here we were, fifteen years on.

I heaved a sigh, taking the smallest of delights in the very fact that she was there, however bruised and battered. All that mattered was that she was again in front of me, and I was again able to care for her with all my strength. My fortune was only heightened knowing she was just as I had left her, if only in physical form. I don't know why I expected her to remember me. Fifteen years is a long time, and I had only prayed she would not have married again. Such was a stupid wish in itself, but at last fortune had smiled on me.

All of a sudden, Lucy stirred. I expected she was having another fit of the fever, but her eyelids fluttered as if she were waking.

"M-Mr T-Todd…"

"Don't speak," I said calmly, reaching again for the flannel. Even from the effort of speaking perspiration showed on her forehead. She winced as the water touched her skin, shivering. She did not speak, nor did she even make an attempt to do so. In fact, Lucy did not make a sound until she stopped shaking.

"W-where're w-w-e?" She asked slowly, her throat hoarse.

"You're back home," I murmured softly. "Back in the flat."

To my joy, she neither winced nor groaned, and simply sighed softly in reluctance. I ignored the tone, and simply smiled inside. Without another word, I stood and quickly took hold of the soup Mrs Lovett had left on my dresser. I sat back by her side, and pulled her gently into a sitting position.

"Take some of this," I said, putting the bowl gently to her lips. She obeyed, sipping quietly. I noticed her eyes were still closed, and she no longer attempted to open them. I daresay it would have been too tiring for her.

"You needn't do this, sir," she whispered.

"Of course I do."

"I little desire the attention."

"I don't think it is my concern what you want right now," I said truthfully. "My only concern is what you need."

"Who are you to decide which is which?" she asked, her voice ever so slightly smoother.

"Your husband," I replied bluntly. She turned her head, a crease appearing in her forehead.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Almost a day, at the most."

"Then it must do me some amount of good to stand again," she said, her eyes fluttering open as if she had the ease to do so all along. She stretched out her limbs as one does upon awakening, but winced as she did so.

"It wouldn't do you any good if you can not even move while on a bed."

"At most I require perseverance, Mr Todd."

I smiled slightly at her attempt, but was forced to place a hand on her shoulder to keep her from straining herself. She glared at me with contempt, but seemed unwilling to do much else to stop me. With little more fuss, she allowed herself to be fed a slight more amount of food, and freely let me bathe her face when she was struck again with a sweat of the fever.

"You seem to misjudge my sickness," she said after a while's pause. "There is little point in such a fuss, it is merely a fever."

"I never take such risks with a fever," I told her. "Men have died with less. I have seen."

"I see you've had plenty enough time to work on sophisticated conversation," said Lucy, a small smile on her lips.

"And I can see you haven't lost a sharp tongue when it's needed."

Lucy opened her eyes slightly, looking at me with a curious eye. I stared back, unable to entirely say I was not confused. This continued for mere moments, although it was easy enough to believe the time longer. She was the first to blink, and with a soft smile propped herself up on her pillows until she sat comfortably.

"I was very serious beforehand, sir," she told me quietly. "You need not make such a fuss over me, I am feeling utterly better."

"You know full well I shan't take such a risk."

"Why am I not surprised? You seem little able to take any risk about me."

"I have only just found you again, it would be a very foolish man to let you go."

"A very foolish man indeed," she sighed. She spoke very little after that moment, most likely anxious. I could not make her relax herself, and her shoulders were always tensed, as if she were to be attacked. I could barely say a word against her refusal to move- it helped me dearly enough. I could neither complain about her frostiness in attitude. What use would it do?

Before long, Lucy had given up on any idea of conversation or entertainment, and slipped into a restful sleep before the sun could go down. She no longer tossed, and her fever had gone done considerably compared to when I had found her. I had not dared to mention such time, fearful she should find herself in another fit of fever simply with the memory.

Weary myself, but reluctant to the idea of sleeping at all, I left my wife for a short time to seek out the gin I knew for a fact Mrs Lovett had hidden away from Toby, with good enough reason. I had not at all expected that I should be alone in the pie shop…and I was right. She stood behind the bar, mindlessly wiping at the tabletop. The moment I closed the door behind me, Mrs Lovett looked up at me, her face grave.

"'as she woken up yet?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"I'm sure she will respect your earnest worry for her, Mrs Lovett."

"Is she?" she persisted.

"Only for a short while. She only now fell asleep again."

She sighed with a slight relief, and without complaint gathered a glass and the gin she had hidden away behind the rags on the top shelf.

"Don't think 'e'll reach up there," she told me with a slight wink. "I swear I've never spent so much on gin in me life."

"Good job you're bringing in money." She nodded proudly and handed me the glass. I drank quickly and turned on my heel, attempting to leave without another word. Most obviously I was to suffer for my false impression of Mrs Lovett, and was forced to pause as she opened her mouth again.

"Is she asleep now?" she asked.

"I've already said so."

"Will yeh….will yeh tell me when she wakes up?"

I turned to look over Mrs Lovett's face, and nodded brusquely. She smiled brightly, and without a single fuss, carried on mindlessly cleaning the tabletop surface.


	11. Diane Dreaming

Mr Todd seemed never to have left me when I woke up. He still sat by my bedside, waiting with a glass of water in one hand, prepared for when my eyes opened. In the same way he had done with the soup, he held my head up and put the glass to my lips. He did not speak to my immediately, and instead only carried on with attending to me. I would have protested had I not realised I was, indeed, thirstier than I first imagined.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked again.

"Only a few hours this time," he chuckled. "You needn't worry about such things."

"I do not worry about it, I merely wish not to intrude on your flat for a more than appropriate time." His small smile dropped again, and he cleared his throat, as if finishing such hopes for leaving. I thought over the simple action of it, and could not help but pity him ever so slightly. He assumed so lightly that he knew what I had meant.

Silently, he pressed a hand against my forehead, and nodded faintly.

"Your fever has gone down," he said, a sigh of relief playing on his lips. "I'd say within the next few days we'll have you out of bed."

"Why not now?"

He laughed at my effort, but did not reply to the comment. Mr Todd stood quietly, and I could not help but be surprised as he turned to the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked, sounding ever so slightly more earnest than I had meant to.

"Our Mrs Lovett wished for me to tell her when you woke up again," he replied, chuckling silently at my tone in the question. "I'm sure she still wishes for me to stay by that promise."

"Will she come to see me?" I continued, purposefully excited by this point. He tilted his head, observing the excitement in my eyes and cheeks- I could sense them blushing in the intense need for my friends dear company.

"I think you're far too excitable," he said softly.

"Most certainly not! Please, sir, I do miss her ever so much."

With a quick nod of the head, he left the apartment. I smiled widely. I did not know why, as I knew little of the woman. All I knew was that she was the shoulder I had cried on those nights, and she was the woman who had freed me, if only for a few days. It was a duty of mine to hold her hand in affection.

It did not take very long before the two returned to the flat. Mr Todd led the way in a most protective behaviour, and Mrs Lovett solemnly followed. She had been staring down at the floor, but upon looking at me gasped in slight surprise. Her eyes watered, but I could not fathom the reason why.

"Can you please leave us be, Mr Todd?" I asked quietly, my eyes not leaving Mrs Lovett, who seemed to start weeping silently as I asked it. He looked at me in an alarmed way at first, but then relented without a single sound before he left.

We both watched him as he left, slightly awed that we had been given the chance to be alone together to speak. I expected him to be far too protective of his treasure. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could do so, the quick sound of Mrs Lovett's footsteps sounded before she dropped to her knees beside me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, her voice shaking. "I promise, love, I promise I never told 'im."

"I never once said you did!" I cried out, holding the poor woman in return. "Mrs Lovett, do not cry in such a way, I wished ever so much to see you."

She let go of me and wiped away her tears with a brave smile. She clutched my hand sweetly before talking with a forced calm to her tone.

"Yeh're up the mend, I guess."

"I hadn't much noticed I was at all ill."

"Mr T said yeh were knocked for six," she said with a titter. "Poor thing, what must 'ave 'appened to yeh."

"You mustn't think such silly nonsense, Mrs Lovett. Whatever has happened to me can not cause a fever."

"Oh, I wouldn't 'ave thought it impossible."

"Then you must change your thoughts. It was simply chilly, I should assume." She sighed sympathetically, stroking my hair out of my eyes.

"We both know something happened to yeh out there, love," Mrs Lovett said, patting my hand. I looked down at our hands, only so as not to look into those large, brown eyes that made me wish to cry all the more. I could not help but ask myself bitterly why she wished to torture me in this way, but I supposed I would not know.

"I do not wish to speak of it," I said firmly, although my voice cracked as I did so. "Neither of us are clueless about what happened."

"I'm sure I know a little less than you think I do."

"You know that I am here," I stated. "And you know that I have not once spoken about my father."

"It was easy enough to guess that, love. But simple things like that don't send you into a fever, now, do they?"

Wincing slightly, I moved my hand away from hers. She tried to snatch it back, but I turned away, slumping back into my pillow. A small amount of tears started to well, and I would not allow them to be seen.

"There is little to speak of," I said as she tried to turn me to face her. "I wandered the streets and Mr Todd found me."

"Even I won't believe that," she said tiredly. "Come now, love, yeh can tell me."

I turned my head slightly to look at her through the corner of my eye, and the tears dropped slightly heavier upon the pillow. Mrs Lovett wrapped her arm around me and pulled me until I sat properly by her side. I was slightly ticked off that people kept throwing me about like a rag doll in this manner, but once she held me in such a dear way I could not help but allow it without a fuss.

"I found him," I at last whispered, clutching onto Mrs Lovett as if she were my mother.

"But, dear, yeh said-"

"I know what I said," I retorted thickly, as if I had a cold. "But that isn't how it went. I found him."

"Yehr father?"

"Yes, my father."

"Did Mr T see 'im?" she asked urgently.

"Of course not. I should think if he did, I would be free by now."

"Mr T can be a stubborn man."

"Even he cannot look truth in the eye and call it a lie."

Mrs Lovett did not reply to this specifically, but was quiet enough to listen to what I had next to say.

"I don't know where I was, but my…my father was getting a coach. I tried to run for him, honest I did. But…he didn't…"

I gasped out loud in attempts not to cry, but with no avail. Mrs Lovett held me tightly, hushing me as I wept.

"I'm sure 'e didn't see yeh, that's all," she murmured into my ear. "Until then, I've grown fond of yeh being around."

"That's sweet of you," I admitted with a slight smile.

"And, when yeh're feeling better, Toby's been missing yeh too." At this, a true smile lay on my lips. I had quite forgotten about little Toby, and my heart lifted slightly. If I could not be safe with my father, I might as well have the pleasure of the little child's company.

Mrs Lovett saw the smile return to me, and practically cheered because of it. She was settled with a last squeeze before rising with a sigh.

"Mr T'll 'ave 'eard yeh fussing, yeh know," she said. "I should be off. Pies to bake, I'm sure."

"Can't you stay only a few minutes longer, ma'am?" I pleaded.

"I can't be distracting yeh now, can I? Yeh need to rest."

"So as to simply sit for forever and a day? I much rather the prospect of staying in this bed so as to make the company I find now."

"We'll see, love," she said tiredly, but fondly. She smiled again before turning to the door, and with that, she was gone.

Mr Todd did not take long to come to see me again. He composed himself to seem as calm and tepid as ever, but there was an excitement that lighted his dark eyes that I could see brightening the room. I didn't know whether it was humorous, pitiful or endearing, but I decided it best not to try and chose now. He spoke gently to me, as if I were a child again. I suppose he was trying to coerce me into resting again, but I admit, I could not have done such without more persuasion. I had slept for what seemed like weeks now, and did not wish to do it any more.

I found no comfort as he fussed over me with the silence of some sort of angel, sent only with good intentions. I did not believe such intentions, although I had not yet decided what I thought those intentions were. I would perhaps have to ask, but did not dare do so simply because it seemed he was my only chance of staying alive at this point in time. I only assumed this, and should most likely have asked what I was there to do, but I realised that although I was not tired, the fever had taken energy out of me.

The night drew towards us, and we both grew silent, I having not spoken much at all over the duration of hours since Mrs Lovett left us alone. I could hear the sound of customers crowding around the pie shop, and a few quiet knocks on the flat door before Mr Todd would brusquely force them to leave. It was a sweet thing to hear, no matter how harsh he may have sounded, but I almost wished to cry out to those that he sent away, to ask for their help. I did not, though, and I don't suppose it would have made much difference if I had.

I had given in quietly now to the knowledge that I would spend the foreseeable future with this man. I still knew nothing of him, not even his first name. I knew nothing of the street I was on, and I knew nothing except that I was to expected to be named Lucy- whoever this was- for the remainder of my stay. This was the only certainty in my mind, and it was one I would not look kindly upon, but took it as a better option than roaming the streets again in search for a man who may not even have wished me to be there. No part of my mind told me what Mrs Lovett had already said. Nothing could persuade me to think that he simply could not hear me, simply could not see me, and in turn was searching for me. No. He had long lost hope in such findings, and was resorted to a life without his daughter who would soon have been married anyway. I was young, and would soon enough have indeed been married- I simply expected I would have known when the service took part rather than simply awaking one day to find that I was married.

Not at all taking kindly to the idea of awaking married, I resigned myself to sleep, in hopes I should wake up from this dastardly dream.


	12. Sweeney No Need For Persuasion

My joy was not easily suppressed as Lucy's fever rapidly decreased. She was able now to walk about the flat with a minimal amount of help, and at a slow pace. I do not know why exactly, but she was still ever so annoyed whenever I tried to help her walk. Lucy became earnest soon enough to leave the flat, wishing to see Mrs Lovett somewhere other than her bedside, and to at least feel more breeze than whatever came through an open window.

"Mrs Lovett will need help in the shop," she told me sincerely, a simple excuse to go downstairs.

"She does well enough without you, love."

"But I can not help but feel useless while simply sitting here, Mr Todd!" she cried out desperately.

"You don't just sit here."

"Walking around the room thrice at a time does not count as work, sir," she replied. "I wish to help keep the business up, and it wouldn't suit if I sat here while you shaved customers, would it?"

"I shan't have a customer here then until I believe you are well again."

"I am feeling perfectly well and you know it. You yourself said you were impressed at my recovery."

"Impressed, not assured."

She pouted, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed and folding her arms across her breast. The sight was slightly humorous, but I was pained to see such annoyance and anger. I sat down beside her, but she turned her head to look away from me. Gently, I placed my arm around her, pulling my Lucy towards my breast. Lucy sighed slightly and relaxed, allowing me to hold her. I was joyous at this simple action, as until a few days ago she refused to allow me to touch her.

"You do tease me, sir," she said quietly. "I'm perfectly alright, I assure you. And I do miss Toby ever so much."

"Then why do you not ask for him?"

"I have!" she retorted. "Continuously, but either Mrs Lovett says he is busy or you say you will not have him in your flat!"

"I can not help a disliking for the boy," I said weakly.

"Yes, sir, you can, you simply refuse to."

"True, I can assure you. But I shan't change my mind about him."

"Not even if I enjoy his company?" she asked.

"However rude it sounds, no."

A small smile appeared on her lips, and my heart lifted at the very sight of it. It disappeared quickly enough as she dwelled again in the depression she forced upon herself by making a fuss over something as simple as leaving our flat. She never failed to render me guilty, but I had been forced to ignore such an emotion. I had long abandoned such ideas of guilt, and I disliked it coming back to me alongside others that I had long forgotten.

There was silence in which I assume we both pondered. I noticed the small light in Lucy's eyes which always shone as she thought with vivid thoughts, and I always took it as my chance to do so as well. Resting my cheek on the top of her head, lost in the scent slightly, and wondered slightly. I could not deny she seemed practically blooming again with health, and she had been much more content now about her name. I began to think that she had remembered me again, and would not let myself think anything different. With an obvious reluctance, I sighed and rose from the bed.

"If you so wish it, I will allow you to at least visit the shop," I said. "But only visit."

"But, sir-"

"Don't push your luck," I interrupted fondly, causing her to close her mouth quickly, a smile daring to betray her euphoria. I extended a hand which she took shyly.

"May I at least ask why you changed your mind?" she asked me curiously.

"I realised not only would I have you chattering away about the injustice of me making you rest, but Mrs Lovett herself isn't quiet about it."

"You say that with such a bored tone, Mr Todd. I could assume simply by that that you do not wish for Mrs Lovett to fuss over my well being?"

"She knows less of your well being than I do, I can assure you."

Lucy nodded, more allowing me to say so than agreeing as such, and allowed me to help her down the steps to Mrs Lovett's pie shop. I doubt she thought she would be able to walk down the stairs when she actually got to the top of them, and I could not help but feel lifted by the way she clung to my arm, frightened of falling. Our footsteps must have been heard, as Mrs Lovett rushed out to bottom of the staircase, a smile wide upon her face.

"Yeh're out of bed!" she cried out, clapping her hands. "I do 'ope yeh're feeling better, dear."

"Much," she replied weakly, still recovering from the shock of the outdoors. The moment her feet stepped flat ground, though, she returned the smile.

"Toby's been looking forward to seeing yeh up and about," Mrs Lovett continued, waving us both into the shop. "Never seen 'im more excited."

"I think Lucy's had much enough excitement without the boy," I intervened, wary.

"Nonsense, a little company'll do 'er some good."

I was reluctant to agree with her, but could not help but agree within my own mind. Poor Lucy had not spoken much over the past few days, and there was no doubt that a change of scenery would cause her to speak at last. I allowed her to be taken away to Mrs Lovett's parlour while I was left- or, in other words, forced to stay- in the shop. There was a distant murmur of their voices as Toby chattered on to Lucy, and I was slightly vexed that she was bombarded with such childish talk.

I sat and waited for what seemed like hours, simply waiting for her to emerge again from the room. I expected the dinner rush to appear at any moment, but I was tormented by the fact that they appeared late. Mrs Lovett herself was kept busy darting from the different rooms, her eyes lit with the excitement of the fact that Lucy was up and moving. I dared to think she cared almost as much as I did.

Still, even as the rush came along, Lucy did not leave the parlour, and either Toby or Mrs Lovett were always missing, presumably to keep her company. I did not understand why I myself was not allowed to go to her room- perhaps they believe I had kept her to myself for far too long. Of course I had! She was my wife, after all, and I see little reason why she was to be shared out among the household simply because they believed her to be lonely. I never could understand why they thought so, as I had done nothing but give my undivided attention to her.

The time went by slowly without much conversation on my part to anyone who asked. Although, the only person who did ask was Mrs Lovett, and I had never taken kindly to speaking to her since I returned. It was at these times, though, after which she complained so thoroughly of her 'weary old bones', that a peace could be found. For yet another night, I did not bother with the idea of customers. I did not dare risk it while I knew Lucy may wander anywhere she pleased without Mrs Lovett watching over her.

Around nine o'clock, the rush had dispersed, and only I and my landlady were left in the shop. She tiredly went about the room with a towel, wiping down the surfaces she had missed. I watched with the smallest of curiosities, noticing the blush in her cheeks rise as she noticed I was watching.

"She's getting used to yeh, Mr T," she said after a while's pause.

"I had assumed as much."

"No, yeh wished as much," she retorted. "I know yeh wanted it to be so. But did yeh ever ask 'er?"

"The topic had never been brought up," I snapped. Mrs Lovett smiled slightly.

"Of course. Well, at least yeh know now."

I saw little point in her small quote, but I did not entirely find myself disgusted with it either. Although I had nothing to fear in such manners, I could not help but be glad that I was assured in the fact my Lucy did not dislike my company to say the least. I had already persuaded myself it was so, but was glad enough that I did not need to persuade myself any more.

When Lucy emerged from the parlour, bright eyed and smiling gently, the past hours seemed to ebb away and were quickly forgotten. I did not notice when she cast her eyes down again at the floor when I came into her view, how she simply allowed me to place a hand on her shoulder to lead her back to our flat. Mrs Lovett gave her one last smile, slightly weaker than if had been before, and carried on with her dusting.

Even now I wish I could have heard the things they had discussed…


	13. Diane Lucy?

The moment I entered the parlour I was practically thrown off my feet as young Toby embraced me excitedly, a grin on his face.

"Mrs Lovett said you were feeling ill," he said with a tone of regret. "You are feeling better now aren't you, Miss Diane?"

"Very much so," I laughed, embracing him in return. Mrs Lovett watched on for a short while, leaning back on the sofa to survey with comfort. Toby kindly led me to a chair, as if he were a nurse or carer, and without even being asked the question began to tell the tales of what had happened while I had been away and ill. Although these stories consisted mainly of his working times, and perhaps one or two restless customers who, at most, might have been too drunk to remember to pay. I found his enthusiasm the most entertaining factor of his speech, though, and was dearly disappointed whenever Mrs Lovett sent him from the room to work.

"He seems excited," I mused with a smile as he left me alone with Mrs Lovett. "More so than before."

"Of course ' is, love," she said. "Yeh can't believe 'ow excited 'e was to 'ear yeh were back."

"I hadn't guessed." Mrs Lovett smiled slightly at my attempt at humour. She paused, and her small smile turned into a more beaming version of itself.

"Yeh can walk again," she pointed out. "I knew it wouldn't take yeh long to recover."

"Mr Todd seemed quite shocked at the fact," I admitted.

"Well, yeh needn't worry about that for long, will yeh?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeh can leave," she said. "Yeh can carry on looking for yehr father."

"Mrs Lovett," I started, doubtful.

"Dear, yeh can only learn from past mistakes."

"I saw him before, ma'am, he doesn't want me."

"Yeh can't just give up, dear!" she said in earnest. "Yeh can't give up because of that."

"I have no reason to give up," I muttered. "That is not why I will stay here."

"I thought yeh wanted to go."

I bit my lower lip, looking at the woman directly. Her eyes were filled with a curiosity that almost pushed to agony.

"I want to find him," I admitted. "More than anything, I want my father. I want to…I want to find my way home, wherever that is. I want to have never been lost on that first night."

"Then-"

"But, Mrs Lovett," I interrupted. "What choice do I have but to stay here? If I left, and even by some miracle I found my father again, do you think that Mr Todd would not find me again? HE found me so far away from here before, we can not doubt he would find me again."

"When yeh prove yeh ain't 'is wife I'm sure everything'll be alright."

"Perhaps, but I do not think he would allow me that far, ma'am."

Mrs Lovett nodded slightly, agreeing with a sombre tone.

"I can't bear the idea of yeh staying 'ere."

"Would you not miss me?" I teased.

"Of course, dear, of course. I've become accustomed to yeh, like Toby in ways. I just…yeh're not meant to be 'ere."

"I know."

"Yeh really can't just sit around and let it 'appen like this, dear," she said, placing a hand on my knee with a motherly affection. "Fate 'ad yeh for better things."

"Fate may have led me here," I pointed out. "I would not say for an instant I prefer life here, Mrs Lovett, however kind you have been to me. I've come to think of you as my friend, my best perhaps, but who am I kidding if I say I love my life here?"

"Then why won't yeh try and leave?" she asked.

"Because _he_ loves me," I replied, emphasising that single word.

"Mr Todd?"

"Of course. Ma'am, you can see well enough he loves me, so I must of course see it too. I may die never knowing quite why he loves me, and it will haunt me until that day. But whatever the reason, he does truly love me."

"Yeh can't stay just because 'e wants yeh to, dear."

"I have never been one to hurt another, Mrs Lovett. If I leave, he shall never be the same, I should think. He cared for me so dearly I should be looked upon as his betrayer!"

"Diane, yeh owe 'im nothing!"

"No, I don't, but I can not deny him the simple company he wishes for."

"Dear, yeh're far too young for such a sacrifice."

I nodded slowly, but with liberal thought, shook it just as slowly. I cast my eyes down to the floor, unsure of what to say, but certain of what basis my thoughts took.

"Diane?"

"I don't see the sacrifice, ma'am," I said bluntly. There was a pause, in which time I looked up at Mrs Lovett's alarmed features.

"Dear, yeh're not telling me yeh-"

"I don't like him, ma'am," I explained. "Not at all. If it were up to me, I would never have to see him again. But I am somewhat…accustomed to him, as you put it. He is a hard man to get out of your mind, though."

"I wouldn't know," she said gruffly. I smiled slightly.

"Mrs Lovett, do not misinterpret my words. I know with what affection you see him."

"That doesn't matter, dear," she said with a sigh, smiling in return. "'e seems 'appy with yeh."

"My only task is to make sure things stay as they are."

"'e won't touch yeh, yeh know, Diane," Mrs Lovett told me quietly. "Not unless yeh asked 'im specifically."

"Ma'am, do you really believe that?"

"Of course I do," she said in an almost triumphant voice. "Mr Todd still thinks of yeh as 'is Lucy. 'e loved 'er with all 'is 'eart, never did anything to upset 'er. 'e never 'ad the 'eart to do it."

"Lucy?" I asked bemusedly. "Mrs Lovett, I hear her name so often yet will no one tell me who Lucy is?"

Mrs Lovett's eyes widened, as if she had been sleeping all this time and had only now awoken.

"Yeh don't wanna know," she mumbled.

"I do, ma'am, I really do! Please, I must know who she is."

"'asn't Mr T at least hinted?"

"I would not ask if he had, ma'am."

She nodded slowly, and let out a low sigh accompanied by a sound not much different than a mournful groan.

"Mr T 'asn't always been like this," she started slowly. "Barker, that used to be 'is name. Benjamin Barker. Quaint name, ain't it? Sort of thing yeh could get used to. Lucy was 'is wife, yeh might 'ave guessed. 'e bleats on about yeh being 'is wife so often I'm surprised yeh never guessed. Anyway, two were as 'appy as birds singing in a tree, really. Yeh couldn't 'ave imagined two 'appier people. Like a fairy tale."

"But fairy tales aren't real?" I asked, predicting the tone of the story.

"Yeh got that right. I only wish that 'e'd known then what 'e knows now, what you yehrself know now. 'im and Lucy were down in Dunstan's Market, not too far from 'ere, joyful and all. One moment, that is, and then the next thing they know, the police come along and just take 'im. They didn't give no explanation to Lucy, and she 'ad to beg it from Judge Turpin- 'e's the one who sent the guards on Mr T. I 'ad to force the story out of 'er, yeh know, and it was the most terrible sight I'd ever seen. Now, I never took much liking to the girl, she 'elped around a 'ell of a lot less than you do. She only moped around in that room, just waiting.

"She waited with every hope that something would come along to 'elp 'er get Mr T back. It only took a few days before the local beadle came up to the flat and said that she must speak with Judge Turpin, who was said to be repentant of what 'e'd done to the old Benjamin Barker. She was a fool to believe 'im, if yeh ask me!"

She stopped her story, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. It was not hard to see that the story got her worked up whenever she told it. I paused in silence, waiting for her to continue. When she did not, I could only try and persist.

"What happened to her, Mrs Lovett?"

"She poisoned herself," she said suddenly, waking up from her trance. "When she got to the Judge's house, 'e was 'olding a party of sorts. A masquerade. She was lost and drunk by the time 'e found 'er, and…" Mrs Lovett shuddered, shaking her head. "Don't make me say it, dear, it's all just…it was all a long time ago."

"And that's why she poisoned herself?" I asked quietly. Mrs Lovett did not answer, and simply nodded quietly. I pressed my lips together in a thin line, unsure of what to say, but sure that something had to be said. It was at this moment that Toby came bounding back into the room, chirping that they were to swap rotors so that he might be able to talk to me. Mrs Lovett laughed, her own cheery self again, and ruffled the boys hair before leaving the room.

Mrs Lovett and Toby swapped around like this many a time throughout the next few hours. I was confused as to why Mr Todd did not come into the room, but was admittedly glad he did not. However accustomed I was to him, I still ached dearly for different company. My two dear friends were a Godsend to my mental health, and even when I emerged from the parlour, back into the arms of Mr Todd, I was in such high spirits that when I looked down at the floor, my eyes slightly closed, I could not help but smile slightly.

**A/N: I just want to make a quick apology about this chapter. In almost every Sweeney Todd fanfic where there's an OC, you get a whole story about what happened to Lucy. Well, this is mine. I promise, no more 'His name was Benjamin Barker, and he was beautiful' crap. We're back onto the real story!**


	14. Sweeney She Has A Knack

Lucy rested easily that night, a small smile on her face even as she slept. I did not sleep at all through the night, more content with watching her sleep while stroking her cheek in an almost possessive fashion. I could not help myself, really. I defy any man to say that he ever could resist such a nature around Lucy. It was long, cool night, but I myself was used to it. I worried several times that perhaps it was far too cold for her, that it might bring back her fever, but when the sun rose, my worries were passed by.

I could not help but still be astounded as she woke up. Seeing those bright blue eyes flicker open was still as beautiful as it had been all those years ago. She blinked several times, gathering her surroundings, before her gaze rested on me. There was a slight silence before I broke it.

"Are you still feeling well?" I asked quietly.

She nodded slightly, still staring.

"I should think Mrs Lovett will be expecting you for breakfast, then," I said, wondering whether I dared to smile.

"And you, sir?" she asked, her voice slightly hoarse as ones might be when awakening.

"She knows very well I do not eat breakfast," I replied. Again, Lucy nodded, slightly more unsure if I am correct.

"You seem anxious, Mr Todd," Lucy mused as she sat up in the bed. "Have I said something?"

"You've barely said two words, love," I said softly. "How can you think such a thing? I'm perfectly fine, Lucy."

"Then do seem it, sir. I never am able to tell." Her lips turned up ever so slightly in a gentle smile, showing a simple humour in her words.

I accompanied her downstairs again, taken aback still by her beauty. It had been so long since I had seen her with such an elegance and blooming health, and she donned a slim pink frock as if to celebrate the occasion. She appeared to notice the approving gaze which I gave her, and blushed as my eyes cast over her. I was determined only to look at her face, the face which I had kept in my mind for fifteen years, but I could not help but to let my eyes wander…each time, I was forced to shake my head so as to stop myself from doing so any longer.

Mrs Lovett awaited us both, smiling broadly. I could no longer be sure who it was she smiled at, but I took it for granted it was for my wife's sake. There was a kind look in her eye rather than lustful, so it would have made the most sense. Lucy allowed me to sit by her without a fuss, and even took little to no notice of the fact that my arm was firmly wrapped around her shoulder, although she did not at any point look at me, nor talk to me. I could not say I was not slightly disappointed, yet I was still overjoyed by the fact that she allowed such contact. It would not have been long ago and she still cringed at the very thought of my touch.

Lucy was eager to leave quickly so as to take back her place in the pie shop. I never really understood why she was so eager to help. She was not being paid in the same manner as Toby was, after all, and did not need to do any of the work she forced upon herself. It was strange, to say the least, but I had little reason to argue. After all, it must have been a while since I'd opened up the shop. Mrs Lovett was quite adamant that I started the business up again. I wondered if she were anxious I had withdrawal symptoms somehow, having not used my razor for some time. I could not help but wonder if she expected me to turn the blade on her some day if I refused to use it much longer. The idea was laughable.

My first customer was almost a relief, I must admit, though. It was odd to feel the sensation of blood drench my arm again, after such a long time. Looking back, I must have had some sort of trouble in my mind if mere days seemed such a long time. The sound and scent of the commotion was like a forgotten memory to me by this point, one that I had missed slightly. It was not that I took pleasure in killing these men. Oh no. If I had my way, things never would have come to this. I never would have been chosen to wipe the earth clean of these people. I never would have to be the one to keep London safe for my wife and child, one who I had believed dead, one who was still so far away from my arms. If it were up to me, the ghosts never would have haunted me to this point.

Several customers came by that day, half of them fortunate to have family members with them, and I can say with true honesty that I had relieved whatever bloodlust I had at first thought I did not possess. From whatever I had heard through the floor boards, I could at least guess that Lucy had not yet been in the bake house, and I assumed that she had been forbidden from it altogether. The assumption was not one to make lightly, but I knew from the way that Mrs Lovett looked at my wife that she could not allow such sights to be seen, nor such secrets to be revealed.

I was awakened from my slight trance by a light knocking at the door. Thinking it simply another customer, I threw down the cloth I had been wiping a razor with and called the man in with a simple 'come in'.

"Mr Todd?" asked a shy voice, if somewhat alarmed. I spun quickly on my heel, eyebrows raised in slight shock myself.

"I apologise, Lucy," I said as calmly as I could muster. "I simply thought you a customer." She nodded, holding up the tray she held in her hands.

"Mrs Lovett told me to bring you this, sir." I cursed the woman inwardly, as she knew very well I never took a meal unless I myself came for it. I strode over and took the tray, placing it immediately on the dressing table.

"She needn't have asked you," I pointed out.

"That's what I said," she said, her voice quieter than before. "But she does worry for your health, sir."

"The poor woman will never learn."

"She does, sir. She knows very well that you won't eat it, but she tells me she tries anyway, just in case. That's why she sent me today, Mr Todd."

"How so?"

"Mrs Lovett thought that, perhaps, if I were the one to give you your food, you might actually eat it. I can't say I believed her all too much, and I wouldn't mind awfully if you proved me right, seeing as it's none of our concern."

"Rightfully put, love," I said, humoured slightly by the way she spoke. It was such a soft, shy tone, yet her words were bold enough to have come from the baker herself.

"I should be going back downstairs, sir," she said, bowing her head slightly.

"I'm sure Mrs Lovett won't mind you waiting up here for a while."

"Yes, but I would, Mr Todd. I'd never forgive myself allowing that poor woman all the work during the lunch hour rush."

"She handles it well enough without you."

"You've not worked down there, sir, might I remind you. If you had, you'd see there is much more work to be done than waiting for a customer to come to you, rather than you to them." She blushed as she said these words, and placed a hand to her mouth. "I beg your pardon, sir, I should not speak so-"

"Freely?" I asked, forcing down a smile. "Do not worry, Lucy, I've become partial to the way you speak."

Just as I had always remembered, Lucy blushed violently with a gentle smile of appreciation, and fled down the stairs back to the pie shop. I watched as she left, entertained by the way she had become so easily embarrassed. It was usual as of late for her to be quiet when she was in my presence, as if something frightened her- who could blame my dear wife? I had changed so much I doubt she could even tell Benjamin Barker was under my visage somewhere, dead and yet still there.

In the most dazed yet highest of my spirits, I had utterly forgotten the different rules that had been set out so as to know which customers were sentenced to die, and unable to tell when someone may visit from the below pie shop, all were spared in a moment of my own weakness. I, the Angel of Death, sparing so many people, it was simply a queer happening. After all, it was not in my place to be merciful to the unforgiving. I thought it more as a duty to Lucy, to keep what innocence I could for her sake, and her sake only.

I was not able to disguise the impatience I held when I at last attempted to fetch Lucy from the pie shop. As I entered, it was not hard to see that she had been laughing. It was strange, she had not laughed so cheerfully in so long. Longer than I can remember, at least. The shock of it, and my angst over the idea that she did not come back to me immediately, overruled my joy at her laughter.

"Don't worry yehrself, love," Mrs Lovett said, laughing cheerfully. "She needed a good natter."

"Not good enough to ignore me," I muttered, more childishly than I had ever intended. "It's late."

"And she's ain't a child, Mr T," she replied. "Yeh can't treat 'er like she's yeh daughter, love."

"I have the very right to care for her in the same way," I snapped. "Lucy seems to have the knack for trouble."

"Can't say I disagree with yeh, love, but she seems to be safe enough in 'ere."

Although I could clearly see my wife just in front of me, simply sitting there while talking excitedly to the Toby lad, it still wasn't hard to think of her managing to attract some piece of scum just through the window. I was forced to glance at the window by my own paranoia, just to make sure my worst fears weren't true. Lucy barely noticed my agitation, still entertained by the baker and her boy. I watched from a distance, disgusted as well as intrigued. It had been many a year since I thought about these sort of times.

It was simply a relief when finally I was able to pry Lucy away from this scene. A smile still played on her lips, which I could only be grateful for. She slept peacefully, lost to the world as long as she still had that blissful smile.


	15. Diane All An Accident

I grew used to my life more than I had first imagined possible. The process was quite quick, really. By my first morning I had grown accustomed to waking up to the sight of Mr Todd's face, more similar to me now. I knew every day that I was to go downstairs and help in the pie shop- Mr Todd did not wish me to, of course, but I could not let myself watch Mrs Lovett run about with only Toby to help her. It just wouldn't be good manners.

Mr Todd himself also grew used to this. He no longer complained, and took it in good stride that I should always follow out this timetable. We had both grown to be used to it, and took a pleasure in the rotor that one does in normal, everyday activities. I don't suppose I thought any day different than the one that came before it, and the one that came afterwards showed now individuality.

I came to think of the pie shop as a second home. To my surprise, Mr Todd's flat became my first home. I did not think much of my father any more, more so out of desperate desire not to cause myself such pain. Mrs Lovett provided me with the friend and mother that I had longed for since my own mother's death, and I could not help but be grateful to her. I never once told her the position she now held in my life, but I assumed she guessed easily enough. Toby also became like a brother to me. There was something in seeing his bright smile every morning that braced me for the day, and sustained me throughout the hours.

Most of the time, I was left to wait on the customers alongside Toby. Mrs Lovett preferred to take most other jobs upon herself, such as going down to the bake house and collecting the ingredients. She told us with a weary smile that as it was her shop, she thought it best she took such jobs. It was not an unkind way that she would tell us it was her shop. We were not to complain, we were merely employees. Voluntary employees. It was only fair we should take any job off her hands that was possible. Toby was more persistent in asking about this, as Mr Todd preferred that I should only do the tasks that had been set for me, rather than taking it upon myself to do anything more. Perhaps it was the deal I was forced to abide by if I wished to do anything but sit around by the window.

The hours which I was given downstairs in the shop gradually increased. It was as if I were a young girl again and a curfew was being lifted over myself. Still, I was happy enough knowing that such a curfew was being lifted, and I was able to spend much more time than I before was allowed with Mrs Lovett and Toby. A short time was spent persuading Mr Todd into letting this be the fact. And so most evenings were spent in the baker's company. Toby, being young, fell asleep by the fire quite quickly. He slept almost like a dog, curled up on the hearth. We made sure, though, that he was always laid to rest on a seat by the time we left.

"Poor thing doesn't know when to stop working," Mrs Lovett said gently as we watched him sleep. "I don't know 'ow many times I 'ad to tell 'im to take a break."

"He's a helpful thing," I admitted. "Asked me several times if I wanted to rest. I do wish he would look after himself more often, he frets too often."

"That Pirelli bloke put it into 'is 'ead." She sighed heavily, a slight drop appearing in her smile. "Still, means we found 'im,. Suppose some good's got to 'ave come from it all."

"It's a shame good must come from such incidents," I said quietly. Mrs Lovett put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards her.

"Seems I only got 'im out of unfortunate events. Same goes for you, dear. I don't seem to 'ave the knack for yehr average employees."

"My position is not so unfortunate," I murmured, fiddling absent-mindedly with the sleeve of my gown. It was one that Mrs Lovett had given me, and what with her being a good deal taller than me, it was a blind sight large. However, I could not deny there was a satisfaction in the warm scent still embedded in the material. It was good enough wear while Mr Todd sat impatiently upstairs before my curfew was finished and he came to fetch me.

"Suppose yeh're right," she said thoughtfully. "Could 'ave done worse." I smiled gently, not quite sure what to make of the comment.

"Mr T's been treating yeh right, I suppose?" she asked quite out of the blue, not looking up from Toby. I paused, musing.

"He has not treated me wrongly," I answered truthfully.

"Which means?"

"That he has not been difficult, I should think. Mrs Lovett, you do worry too much, it would not surprise me if your opinion of him is lesser than you say it is."

"I do," she said with a slight nod. "'e ain't the best of men."

"But not the worst," I reminded her.

"Of course, not the worst, dear. But I can't 'elp but fret for yeh, yeh know. From what I know of yeh, this ain't what life was meant to be."

"I take it in a good stride."

"Bloody saint in my opinion," she sighed, shaking her head. "Each to their own."

"Yet you are so fond of him," I said, slightly confused.

"True," she admitted. "But even I don't know why I am, dear. Yeh see, like I said, 'e ain't the best of men, but that don't stop a girl."

"You are a wonder, Mrs Lovett," I sighed. "I haven't the patience for such ideas."

"And best yeh keep it that way." Mrs Lovett exhaled deeply, a mournful sound to my ears. "Still, poor thing's glad of yeh company."

"He can't have been much worse before I came here," I said lightly. A dark look from my companion told me the truth bluntly enough. "You do worry about the two of us far too much, Mrs Lovett."

"With good reason," she said with a nod. "Yeh own sake more than 'is."

I shook my head, laughing away her comment. I could not help but watch Mr Todd ever so curiously that evening as he arrived down in the shop, surveying him. He did not seem to notice with what attitude I stared at him, although I could never be sure. As Mrs Lovett had warned me long before, he hid his emotions well, and any glimmer of his thoughts that one may believe they saw could simply be a trick of the light. He may well have realised that I did not sleep most of the night, but I was the only one who knew that it was only because I pondered Mrs Lovett's words thoroughly. She had always seemed Mr Todd's admirer, and I could not help but be slightly confused.

Although I thought of such sullen ideas, there was a slight comfort in the closeness I felt of Mr Todd's cool form by mine. I had long grown used to the feel of a colder than average hand holding mine even as I slept, and something in this night made it all the more consoling. I did not ask myself why. It would only raise questions that I would never want to hear answered. I only wanted to keep in mind the very fact that it was consoling, and nothing less.

The morning came quickly enough, and still in the slight daze that follows after a sleepless night, I returned to Mrs Lovett's pie shop prepared enough to carry out the tasks I partook in every day. Not a word was said about our conversation of the previous night, nor did either of us truthfully care about the fact. We only conversed on the most petty of topics, such as we did with Toby, who lighted the work day with more of his childish chatter which often would delight us. My post was behind the bar on this day, but no one could really concentrate fully on work. There were no customers for the day, and it was quite obvious why. The sun shone quite brightly, and no one much cared for the idea of staying inside. We only remained in the pie shop simply because there was always the slightest chance that someone would enter.

As the sun rose to the highest point in the sky, Mrs Lovett at last emerged from the bake house, a few beads of sweat betraying an otherwise composed face. It was strange to see her tired to the point of physical exhaustion. Usually she was simply tired and in need of sleep rather than recovery. Neither me nor Toby could honestly say we were not slightly worried, but we pushed past it, knowing nothing worsened her mood than us being sad about it. The afternoon was still pleasant, even while we fretted within our own minds. We were only disturbed once by Mr Todd, who only briefly came to the shop and left quickly enough. The wishful look in Mrs Lovett's eye did not escape my attention, but she smiled at me so as to disguise it.

"'e'll be getting 'ungry up there," she said after a light pause. She sighed, fumbling about slightly with a tray and collecting some food. "Take this to 'im, dear," she continued, proffering the tray to me. I stared at it, slightly doubtful. A guilt came upon me as I realised what power it took for her to pass up a chance to be within Mr Todd's sight.

"I do understand if you wished to take it," I said quietly, although it may have sounded more like an excuse rather than an offer.

"Yeh know Mr T'll want to see yeh, dear. It'll be a chance to get whatever air yeh can get," she added, nodding at the door. "Don't leave 'im 'ungry, dear, off yeh go."

I looked at her doubtfully one last time before sighing, shaking my head, and turning to the door. Balancing the tray wasn't too hard. Like most things, I'd become used to it. I relished the slight breeze, enjoying the relief it gave me after such a warm room. I took my time going up the steps towards Mr Todd's flat, looking out across London as my view became wider. With a heavy sigh, I knocked upon the door, waiting to be bid entrance. I heard his footsteps sounding towards the door, and within moments he opened the door.

"Mrs Lovett asked me to bring you this," I said quickly, holding up the tray slightly. He shook his head slightly.

"The amount of times I've told that woman not to bother," he said, a slight groan to his tone of annoyance. "She shouldn't be sending you on jobs with little point."

"You know, she only sent food because there's a slim chance you might once be hungry," I pointed out, the ease in my tone even surprising me. "It's only natural."

"Completely past the point," he said with a twitch in his lips. "I'm afraid, though, no matter what the task is that has been set to you, I must dash down to the bake house while I am in between customers. Mrs Lovett only ever allows myself to help her, and I can't say I could in good conscience allow her to work down there alone. Would you mind in leaving the tray here until I return?"

"But, sir, Mrs Lovett-"

"Will be spoken to," he interrupted. "She will not mind, I am sure. I will tell her where you are."

I nodded firmly, allowing myself to be pushed gently into the flat as he closed the door after me. It was a very quick movement, and if I had not been told beforehand I should wait in the flat I would not have realised why I had suddenly appeared there. I placed the tray on the dresser, glancing slightly at the old photograph that sat there. Blinking twice, I still could not believe that I was continuously shocked at the likeness between our features. Even I could see the obvious similarities, and it made it all the more painful to admit that Mr Todd was not simply a deranged man, but simply mistaken. To tell the truth, I was not inclined to be the one to tell him he was wrong at this point. With a slight smile, I placed the photograph back in its place, sighing heavily. It was best I did not stare at it too long, or I feared my heart should break.

I paced the floor with a light foot, frightened to make too much noise. For some reason, it seemed a thing that was not done, although I could not explain why. I myself could barely hear any of the sound, and was proud enough of it. A small sound came from outside, the tapping of footsteps on the staircase. I looked over my shoulder, wondering slightly why Mr Todd was so quick with his work. It always amazed me that the man could be so fast without much effort at all. It took me only a few seconds, though, to realise that it was not in fact Mr Todd's well paced and heavy footsteps, but instead light and weary feet. I assumed it a customer, and was right enough in it. I looked back down at the dresser, embarrassed to see anyone but those I had been surrounded by for the past week or so.

"Mr Todd isn't in," I called over my shoulder, turning slightly as I said it. "If you return within the hour I'm sure he'll-"

I paused, frozen in the position I had found myself, simply turned slightly to the side with my eyes glued on the next customer. He in turn stared, swaying slightly on the spot. I did not even gasp as I looked over his countenance- it was too shocking to utter anything. He was a handsome enough man, perhaps forty or so years of age. He had dark brown hair, with finer grey hairs beginning at his temples and brushing back, as if he had been in some deal of stress. His chin was in dire need of a shave, an uneven amount of bristle covering it. I blinked twice, still frozen. He, however, moved slightly, but only to hold onto the door frame as if he were to fall.

"Diane," he whispered, his voice hoarse and strange to me. There was no denying it, though. I swallowed thickly before uttering the one word:

"Father?"

With that, and no more, my father few across the room towards me at a speed that must have only come in a moment of power, and he held me tightly in his arms, almost earnest. I felt him shake as his tears fell on top of my head, soaking my hair. I could not comprehend it, though, as I was still far too deep within my confusion.

"Diane," he repeated, moaning the name mournfully. "Dear God, how long have the days seemed! But to find you here at last…oh, God, to find you here! To find you at last!"

"Find me?" I whispered, dazed.

"I've searched across London for you!" he cried out joyously, holding me at arms length now, just to look at me. "I thought I'd lost you for good!"

"That's…"

"Do not worry, Diane, dear, we'll have you home soon enough."

"But, father…" I trailed off, biting my lip. "Father, you left me."

"What are you saying?" he asked, wary all of a sudden. "I told you where I would be. Of course, I misapprehended how horrid your directional skills were, but that does not mean I left you."

"But you did," I persisted. "In the market. I found you."

"Why did you not speak to me?"

"I called after you!" I said with a passion. "I shouted down the road, father, as you entered the carriage."

"My God," he groaned, pulling me again towards him. "How has this happened?"

I looked up at him, my chest heaving with deep breath.

"Did you not hear me?" I asked quietly.

"Hear you? Of course not! I would have ordered to stop at that moment had I heard you."

"Then you did not abandon me? It was only a mistake, father?" He smiled, stroking my hair gently.

"All of it a mistake. One that could have been avoided…let us not mind what could have been, though, Diane, simply what there is now."

I nodded frantically, wrapping my arms around my father, just the way I had when I was a young child. It was a strange feeling to all of a sudden become so dependent again, so childishly loving. For so many weeks I had been without the tenderness of a father, and I hadn't an idea how I had survived so long. I sighed deeply, enjoying the feeling while it would last.

I barely noticed as the door opened again.


	16. Sweeney Time To Know

Even now I don't think Lucy knew I was standing in the doorway. She was instead in the arms of a strange who wept pitifully into her hair. I could see that Lucy shook slightly, most likely weeping herself. I hovered for a moment, unsure, but soon enough my sense got the better of me and I made myself known with a simple clearing of my throat. Immediately, Lucy's head shot up, staring at me with half fearful, half joyful eyes.

"Mr Todd!" she cried out, wiping her eyes dry. "Oh, Mr Todd, you will never believe-"

"Who is this man?" I abruptly interrupted, harsher than I had hoped. She was silent for a moment, staring at the man desperately.

"My father, sir," she at last muttered, a slight smile upon her lips. "He has found me here at last."

"But, your father-"

"Is not dead," she persisted, glancing between the two of us. "You needn't worry for us, Mr Todd, we shall be leaving for Pemberly Court."

My head turned sharply to the man, and I could see a blush come to his otherwise pallid cheeks as I glared at him. Lucy noticed and gripped the man's arm tightly, an earnest expression on her face.

"I still haven't heard a word from you, sir," I spat out, my fists clenching.

"Diane has said what has needed to be said," he replied weakly. "Might I assume you are the man who has taken care of her?"

"And Mrs Lovett," Lucy said quickly with a smile. "From downstairs."

"The two of us have," I said, not averting my gaze.

"Then I must thank the both of you," he said sincerely, smiling as brightly as he could despite his ill appearance. "Without you I fear she would have still been on the streets."

I dared not mention it could have been much, much worse than that. The two before me seemed at that moment to ignore me, both again fixated in each other's presence. Wavering slightly, I still watched, unable to do much else. Lucy did not seem to dare look at me, and I could see her eyes darting frantically around the room. The urgency within her stare was almost frightening, and under any other circumstance I should have thought I'd go to her immediately.

"Perhaps we should leave," she murmured in a hushed voice, although it echoed through the flat. I felt my heartbeat run slightly faster, although I could not clearly say that I was in my right of mind hearing those words.

"I should think your father would wish for a shave, first," I said lightly, a fast thought appearing to my mind. Lucy looked doubtful, although the man claiming the title of 'father' seemed happy enough to oblige.

"Of course, it was the reason I first came here. I must only be grateful that I found my Diane here at the same time," he added, kissing the top of her head. Although my visage remained still, I winced at the very sight of it.

"Might I ask you first, sir," I started slowly, moving towards the dresser and reaching for Lucy's picture, "why you call her by that name?"

"Excuse me?" he asked, a suspense in his voice that seemed light compared to the confusion that lay beneath it.

"Mr Todd," Lucy began pleadingly, pulling the man's arm gently. "Please, we must be on our way." I persisted, shaking my head at her lightly.

"I should think you've mistaken her, sir," I said quietly, holding out the photo frame. "I can assure you of that much."

"Strange," he muttered as he looked at the picture. He paused, and then held the photograph out for me. "But I think it is you who is mistaken. Diane has not claimed yet to be anyone else." My jaw tensed, and a slight urgency became evident within my tone.

"Nor has she denied it, sir," I muttered through gritted teeth. "I think it best you should leave. I shall pray for your daughter's well being, but for now I stand by the fact you have mistaken my wife-"

"Wife?" the man stammered, turning briskly to Lucy.

"Please, Mr Todd-" Lucy cut off her sentence with an anxious sob, tears appearing in her eyes. I ignored them for my own sake, and turned my attention again to the man beside her.

"Lucy-"

"Lucy?" the man asked, blinking wildly. "Who?"

"My wife," I repeated, holding a hand out towards Lucy. She stared at it, a tear at last dropping down her cheek. The fearful expression with which she stared at my hand almost brought sorrow back to my heart, but she gently stepped towards me, still unsure. Her own hand trembled terribly as it held my own, but the firm grip I use quickly allowed me to forget it.

"This is kidnap," he spat bitterly. "Diane, please, we must leave."

"You should," I agreed, my stance protective towards Lucy, who still shook uncontrollably.

"Mr Todd," she murmured through tears, "I-I want t-t-to go. I-I want t-t-to go h-home."

I pulled her closely towards me, hushing her gently. There was such a fright in her voice that made me detest the man before me. How dare he attempt to trick her? Already she was in such a frail state of mind that I was wary every moment of what I said to her, and all that was suddenly to be ruined by a stranger whose name I did not even know? He was no better than those who I sent to Hell, where they belonged.

"Give me back my daughter, sir," he said boldly. "I'm not afraid to go to the beadle."

"His company is most welcome here," I said with sadistic laughter in my mind. "He favours us quite well."

"I daresay a man of the law would never look kindly upon kidnapping, sir." He looked again at Lucy, who seemed frozen and unable to move with exception for her shaking.

"I think it in your best interest you leave now. Other customers will be appearing soon enough."

"And when I find the beadle I'll be sure you never have another one again!" He turned to the door, and in that moment I felt as if time stood still. My rage consumed me, and even with Lucy here by my side, I knew what must be done. I knew that it was time for her to know, and although it was brutal for me to reveal it in such a way, it was necessary.

That is why, with only that thought in my mind, I pulled my razor out of its holster with one quick movement and grabbed hold of the man's shoulder. There was a brief look of surprise on his face, but it disappeared the moment the razors pressed against his throat. His death was quick, and the sound of his gasping and gurgling were dim to me. In fact, there was practically no sound at all in the room. I did not hear the dying man, I did not hear Lucy, I could not hear a person outside, nor the simple sound of a breeze. I felt the warm rush of blood on my sleeve, a few drops spattered against my face. Withdrawing my hand from the now limp corpse, I brushed away the droplets, perhaps only spreading them into a grotesque smudge against my skin.

Keeping a calm composure I felt was needed at this moment in time, I took hold of the body and dragged it towards the chair in the centre of the room. I looked briefly towards Lucy, who leant limply against the wall, staring after me. I placed the body in the chair, and pulled at the handle that plunged him down to the bake house. The sickening thud as his head came into contact with the concrete below almost echoed throughout the room. It was as this sound reverberated on the walls that all sound returned.

"W-what j-just-"

"Breathe deeply," I said quickly, holding out a hand warily. "I should think you are in need of rest, Lu-"

"Lucy?" she asked shrilly, her eyes wide. "You call me Lucy?"

"My dear, you-"

"My name is Diane!" she shrieked, all of a sudden shouting. "You did not believe me before, but at last I had proof I did not lie! I had proof I am not your wife!"

"The man tricked you," I told her. "He abused your state of mind."

"My state of mind?" she asked shakily. "I had a perfectly fine mind until you brought me here. Until you tried to coerce me! You haven't at all done it, Mr Todd! I shan't believe myself to be your wife!"

I don't know why I did it, but my anger still pulsated through my veins. My hand shot out towards her, hitting her cruelly around the face. I only noticed the moment that I did so what I had done. Lucy fell heavily to the floor, her cheek already a rosy red from the contact. Her eyes were closed and her expressionless face was otherwise pale. I paused, looking down at her fearfully. After this moment, I knelt by her side, placing my hand gently on her cheek. Taking her in my arms, I carried her to the bed, my mind racing.

Knowing now what she knew, I doubted that this would pass over quickly.


	17. Diane How Will We Do It?

I barely remembered a thing as I woke up. A dull pain throbbed in my cheek, and soon enough I remembered with what power Mr Todd had managed to strike me with. I concentrated solely on the pain for a while, knowing that if I showed any sign of consciousness, it was only a matter of time before Mr Todd spoke to me. I expected, though, that he already knew of my state, but manners- if he had any left at all- stopped him from speaking out.

My mind still left most of my memories in a daze, and so I could not say I was anything but confused. I felt a hand press itself lightly upon my forehead, and was frightened that I stirred slightly. I dared not do so, I dared not give him reason to speak. Slowly, the feeling in my cheek subsided, and I could not feel a thing. I regained the feeling in every other part of my body, my limbs having before been heavy enough to drag me through the mattress towards the ground below. I felt my eyes flutter slightly of their own accord, and soon enough I could see clearly about the room. I was surprised that Mr Todd was not still by my side, but instead standing by his dresser, pouring a glass of water from the jug that often lay untouched. I was far too slow to close my eyes again before he turned and saw me watching him.

"You've woken up, I see," he said in a falsely light tone, although it was simple to see the desperate way in which he kept the tone.

I did not reply to him, and simply stared from where I lay. There was nothing to say, and I felt that that it would be useless to attempt and fill the silence that then followed. However, Mr Todd seemed adamant on filling said silence.

"Of course, it has only been a few hours. Not much time at all, really."

"Enough time for you to change your clothing?" I asked, staring down his shirt sleeve, now replaced with white where there had before been the dark colour of blood. At the very thought, I groaned, closing my eyes again. The man appeared by me again in a mere moment, holding the glass of water to my lips.

"You've become stressed, I can tell. If you will take some water, I'm sure-"

"Sir, I'm not thirsty," I murmured thickly, my throat losing itself.

"You say that and yet you've been through so much today. I would not like to see you not taken care of."

"I do not need to be taken care of," I said weakly, pushing away his hand. Mr Todd paused, all speech supposedly taken from him. At least, for now.

"At least your memory still serves you well," he said bluntly.

"Whatever could be wrong with my memory?"

"Shock, I supposed at first," he explained. "The initial surprise can often render a person forgetful."

"Then you're right," I said, sitting up slightly. "I didn't forget."

"I suppose you'll have questions to ask, then," Mr Todd said with a sigh, sitting down at the edge of the bed. I paused, slightly shocked. I blinked several times, just to make sure he was really there, really talking to me, and really saying the words he had said.

"How can you be so calm?" I asked in barely a whisper.

"This was not the first time I have caused a man's death."

"And yet you say that with the same ease," I said, surprised I could speak with such little breath. "I find it impossible to do so."

"You would. You are still innocent."

"And you ever were?" I asked bitterly. I saw his features change slightly, as if he were wincing, but dared not make a sound.

"Of course, you can not remember those days. I was once innocent. It is the reason we were so cruelly separated."

"We were never united, Mr Todd, I should think my father's appearance proved that very well."

"My dear, that man was not your father," he said softly.

"Of course he was! He explained to you that very fact, and I agreed with every word he said."

"I did dare to believe it for a moment, I should think. But it is rather impossible for him to be your father, Lu-"

"Diane," I muttered, correcting him for the first time in ever so long about my name.

"Come now, you can not tell me that you still believe you are this Diane? I quite believe with all sincerity the man believed you to be his daughter, but you mustn't be so easily fooled."

"Fooled?"

"He obviously tricked you, Lucy." I opened my mouth, but paused to digest his words. They seemed quite incredulous to me, although from the expression on Mr Todd's face he believed them with what little soul he had left.

"Tricked me?" I asked quietly.

"Into thinking you were his daughter. I should not have allowed you by yourself, I know, but-"

"Sir," I interrupted. "I do not believe he tricked me. He said barely a word except expressing his misfortune at losing me, and never once needed to persuade me. I did not question him."

"Your state of mind is so fragile, my dear, I'm afraid you may have forgotten." As he said this, he reached out a hand to lightly touch my temple, but I batted his hand away from my face fiercely.

"Do not speak in such a manner, I beg of you. My mind is as strong as it has ever been."

"Please, don't speak with such a passion, Lucy. You seem to have become ill, I fear."

"Fear all you wish, for I don't care an ounce what it is you fear!" I pushed the blankets that had been placed on me away, attempting to stand. Mr Todd moved to restrain me, but with a quick movement I stood and moved a few steps towards the door. Obviously, I had been far too quick for my own good, and I felt my head become light again. My knees trembled and I felt myself fall, although Mr Todd gathered me in his arms with one swift movement.

"I told you," he murmured quietly into my ear.

"Why?" I asked in a mere whisper, closing my eyes in defeat.

"If I allowed him to live, he would have taken you," Mr Todd replied, having almost read my mind.

"You said that you had killed before," I said slowly.

"Yes."

"Why would you do such a thing? How could you do such a thing?" I heard him sigh heavily, bringing me back to the bed, although sitting me upon it instead of laying me down. He himself did not sit, and instead knelt before me so that our eyes met.

"Revenge," he said simply. "Upon those who deserve it."

"Who are you to decide who deserves death."

"Each man deserves it in their own way," he continued. "Some for their sins, some to relieve themselves of harm that may come their way."

"For every single man?" I asked.

"Of course."

"Then why are you not dead now?"

"Because there is a specific man I have yet to exact revenge upon." I noticed his jaw was firm as he said this, but I concentrated on another matter.

"Then why am I still alive?"

"I have never yet killed a woman," he said, looking directly into my eyes now. "I most likely could not find it in myself to kill you either."

"I little understand what makes me any different from those men."

"You are my wife. I find that reason enough." I paused, thinking.

"You speak of exacting revenge," I began. "That is Judge Turpin?"

"Do you remember?"

"Mrs Lovett explained the incident to me."

"Then yes, it is the Judge."

"Why choose to murder anyone but him?"

"I realised once the truths of life. That a man must die for his sins, otherwise die to protect himself from them."

"All this in the name of vengeance?"

"You do put it in such a plain way, my dear, and I can't help but find the whole ordeal sickening within your own words. I beg of you not to worry, it is all for our own good. All the death, eventually to end with one man." I sniffed pitifully, shaking slightly.

"To seek revenge may lead to hell," I whispered.

"But everyone does it."

"Thought seldom as well as Sweeney Todd," I said, spitting out the name as if it were poison.

Mr Todd stood, extending a hand towards me. I shook my head, finding myself unable to reach out for it. I barely wished to live any longer let alone move.

"You may stay with Mrs Lovett if you find it easier," he told me. "I know you have not slept well here for such a long time."

"Thank you," I murmured, not quite sure that silence would be the best idea after such a statement. Mr Todd nodded, and beckoned me towards the door with a subtle movement of his hand. Knowing my feet had gathered strength enough to support me without help, I followed him, my hand tracing the wall as I went by just in case I were to fall again.

Mrs Lovett was silent as we walked into the shop. I was in such a daze that I could not listen to whatever Mr Todd spoke to her about, and I was only slightly aware of the fact that, once Mr Todd had left, Mrs Lovett put an arm protectively around my shoulder and guided me to the parlour. Toby was bemused, and I assumed he had no idea about the deeds of the building. I could not look up at Mrs Lovett, who still remained silent.

We sat by the fire, Toby attempting to chatter and gain our attention. However, we were still in shock, and unable to even look at each other, let alone be able to speak. At last, he gave up, and with the meek attitude of a young boy forgotten, he fell slowly asleep at the hearth. Me and Mrs Lovett watched him for a short while, in which time all we could do was think. Finally, I grew tired of such silence, and found that my tongue could not keep its place.

"You knew all along?" I whispered, my voice hoarse.

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"What could I say to yeh, love?"

"I don't know," I admitted.

"I wanted to, yeh know," Mrs Lovett said in earnest. "Mr T asked me not to tell yeh, and it made more sense not to."

"Then why must I find out in such a manner?" I did not receive a reply, as Mrs Lovett was just as clueless as I was. Neither of us would ever understand why I was forced into the truth so brutally, and neither of us would ever ask of it again. I especially would profit from it not an ounce. It was best that we simply try and ignore the evils of the shop. The only question in our minds was whether or not it would be possible.


	18. Sweeney Back To Normal

Even I was surprised at how quickly Lucy returned to her previous state. She wept only once during those days, and after this she spoke barely a word, and carried out anything Mrs Lovett or I asked of her. She did not even flinch when I spoke her name, or shudder when I brushed the hair from her eyes. I could not say I was not glad of it, though, and so I did not complain, nor asked her why she made not a fuss.

Lucy gladly took my offer to allow her to sleep downstairs. Not that, from what I had heard, she slept very often. Still, there was little I could do to force her to sleep, although I was sure enough she did so in my presence. I dared not trespass her past a certain time, though, and so a schedule was settled. After the bells in St Dunstan's struck nine o'clock in the evening, I was not to see her unless summoned. It seemed the best plan, to say the least.

I returned to my own schedule of killing soon enough. For the first day, I hadn't the heart to do so, but I discovered after this brief period that there was no use in stopping. Personal objection could not stop me from the task that fate had given me. Even Lucy could not stop me by this point, and to be honest I was glad of it. Someone needed to exact revenge on the world, and that person was me.

I trusted that Mrs Lovett would have specifically forbidden Lucy from the bake house, especially after the knowledge of what happened down there, and was comforted slightly by this. The last thing she needed was something to remember what happened. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she rarely was given my presence, and even rarer that she should be pleased to see me. I knew just as well as she did that the ghosts do not simply disappear at will.

It came as quite a surprise to me that life still continued as it normally would outside our building. The Toby lad was always the one who went out for groceries or left to send letters. Therefore neither of us two were forced to leave the building, and became quite recluse. As a result, I had almost forgotten about our Anthony.

Before the boy entered, I was visited yet again by Mrs Lovett, who had relieved Lucy of the duty of bringing me food which I would not eat, and water that I would not drink. I refused to look at the woman, although I knew very well that she stared at me and spoke with earnest. It was pitiful to say the least, but I could not help but feel for her. Each time she looked at me, I remembered a time when I had stared at Lucy with that same passion, with that same yearning and longing that drove me wild at night. I was only glad that I was given the chance to fulfil my wishes, while Mrs Lovett was left simply to hope for hers fruitlessly.

It was as Mrs Lovett spoke to me that Anthony rushed into the room, his breathing heavy as it usually was when he rushed in that manner to the upper flat. His face was flushed, and he seemed rather excited all of a sudden. I had not seen him in that manner for quite some time, and it was shocking to say the least.

"Mr Todd!" he cried out the moment he opened the door. "Mr Todd, he has her locked in an insane asylum- Foggs Asylum!"

I stared at him for a moment in disbelief while he caught his breath, sitting down as Mrs Lovett offered him a chair. For quite some time I had been concentrating fully on only Lucy, my astonishment at her being alive drowning out my sorrow for our dear Johanna. Remembering her all of a sudden was quite a strange thing, creating a dizziness in my head that made me walk to the window, almost holding onto the sill to make sure I did not collapse.

"The place is guarded at all doors, Mr Todd," Anthony said once he had regained his breath. "Please, you must help me find a way inside."

"Where do you suppose wig makers get their hair, Anthony?" I asked, an idea coming to my head as quickly as they came to Mrs Lovett.

"Pardon, sir?"

"They get it from Bedlam. We'll dress you up as a wig maker's apprentice, you'll be able to get in quick and easy." Anthony paused, a smile growing on his lips. It was a silly sight to see such happiness in a quick period of time, but nevertheless he still kept such a smile.

"Oh, I thank you ever so much, Mr Todd! She shall be freed soon enough!"

He sprung to his feet excitedly, and his hand hovered for a moment as if he were about to shake my own, but he thought better of it soon enough. Mrs Lovett smiled fondly at him, amused by his behaviour. I expected him to leave at that moment, and I assume he would have if it had not been for the fact that the door opened slowly as he moved towards it. Of course, it was Lucy who stepped lightly into the room, her head bent. Anthony seemed to jump in surprise, but quickly forgot such shock.

"Oh, it's you again, miss! I had no idea you knew Mr Todd."

"Vaguely," she said in a dazed murmur, blinking in surprise.

"I must be the one to tell you, miss," he began again in an excitable tone, "I have at last found my Johanna, the one that I spoke to you about."

"Johanna?" she asked in a voice that made me hope for a moment she remembered. Instead of allowing my heart to lift, however, she dashed such hope by continuing; "The girl of which you spoke to me about?"

"The very same! I am to find her tonight and bring her here, with Mr Todd's permission."

"Yeh know each other?" Mrs Lovett asked, smiling.

"We met not very long ago, a few weeks or so," Anthony replied.

"Then we simply must have you here tonight, love," she cried out, nodding earnestly. "I am sure yeh can spare us one night, we won't be seeing yeh again after tomorrow, will we? It'd be a shame to let yeh leave without a proper goodbye."

I shook my head despairingly, not quite sure why Mrs Lovett bothered with such an invite. I did not speak against it, though, as I saw a small blush in Lucy's cheek. A blush that often betrayed her composure when she became excited.

"I couldn't possibly, ma'am, I-"

"Of course yeh could, love. We won't take no for an answer."

After very little persuasion on Mrs Lovett's part, Anthony agreed that perhaps one night would be allowed, so long as it was simply a goodbye. We knew anyway that he would most likely not return to Fleet Street after he had Johanna, although I found it strange that Mrs Lovett should want the boy there at any rate.

I was left to do my work again in peace after Anthony left, Mrs Lovett having given up on trying to make me eat and Lucy only having come upstairs in the first place to find her. I could barely get my head around the events that had just taken place, and instead simply decided to think of tomorrow night. After all, I may once again have a chance to see my daughter. I did not know whether Lucy would at last remember everything once she saw Johanna, but dear God, how I prayed it would be so.

_A/N- Sorry it's such an extremely short chapter, but I decided halfway through that what happens next…well, I'd just rather Diane told that part of the story rather than Sweeney._


	19. Diane Goodnight Sweeney

Mrs Lovett seemed quite energetic in planning the evening ahead. I myself still was not quite sure why he was invited at all, although she was adamant that conversation that did not include either herself, Toby or Mr Todd would do me good. I did not see why, but I had grown to trust her word, and so I agreed with it. I did disagree, however, with her attempts to dress me up almost as if I were a china doll. She brought a pale blue dress from the back of her wardrobe and forced it upon me, saying it was best I 'look good and proper for our guest'. I did not like to think of him as a guest- a guest implied a gathering, a gathering implied a party, and a party implied attention. More often than not, I couldn't stand any of these things.

Mr Todd did not happen to appear for a while, and we grew sure enough that he would not appear at all. It did not bother me at all; much the opposite, I relished in the idea. He preferred not to come downstairs anyway, and so it was not much different than any other night, apart from the cheerful nature that Anthony brought to us all. I had not had much of a chance beforehand to speak to him apart from when he came briefly to Mr Todd's flat, and when he mistook me for this Johanna on the street. Mrs Lovett explained to me pithily who Johanna was, and I had to admit it seemed to make quite a lot of sense for him to doubt me for her. After all, I was mistaken for her mother at a more tender age.

The moment that Anthony was ushered into the parlour, it seemed as if everyone's spirits rose incredulously. He spoke with such a cheerful tune, his eyes still bright with the happiness at finding his one true love. I did not even know the girl, and yet I felt empathy to his happiness, and took no trouble in showing it by laughing as everyone else did. We all delighted in Toby growing weary early on, his youth making him all the more prone to fatigue. He argued many a time, telling us all individually and with great passion that he was not at all tired, and he could stay awake for hours on end, thank you very much. Of course, it was not long after he spoke those words that he drifted off, his head on Mrs Lovett's lap as she stroked his hair lovingly.

"Poor little thing, tried 'is 'ardest to stay awake, yeh know."

"I suppose we were all like that as children," Anthony mused, smiling at the boy.

"Yeh still are a child, really. Such a shame yeh'll be off and married before yeh 'ad a chance to see everything yeh wanted to see."

"Please, ma'am, I have travelled since the day I was born," he said, laughing. "I have seen everything I'll ever want to or need to again."

"It seems such a lovely life," I said quietly, staring into the fire, dazed.

"Ah, love, yeh know yeh could travel till yeh 'eart's content. Just snap yeh fingers and Mr Todd'd practically drag yeh down to the docks, I'm sure of it."

"I should think I'd rather it were less a travel at Mr Todd's expense."

"Not that you should worry where opportunities come from, miss," Anthony said to me quite sincerely. "Only that you have such opportunities. Never fuss too much at whose expense they come from."

"I only would worry of the burden, 'tis not in my nature to ask of much."

"Learnt that the 'ard way," Mrs Lovett laughed, rolling her eyes. "Still, Anthony's right, love. Yeh're fortunate. Yeh've got someone who would gladly take yeh anywhere yeh wanted. Like Anthony's Johanna- I'm sure enough as I know me name's Nellie that 'e'd do anything to keep 'er 'appy."

"Until the day I die," he said proudly, as if he had much to prove to us. We already knew he loved her dearly- even I knew it with only several minutes of having known him.

"Me Albert never did much of that sort of romance," Mrs Lovett said after a musing pause. "I'll always remember, though, 'e was ever such a sweet lad on our 'oneymoon. Said we'd travel all over the world if I asked for it. Course, poor bloke forgot we were broke. Still, 'e was ever so sweet."

"I should think so for your honeymoon, ma'am," Anthony said thoughtfully.

"That was probably the only time I ever saw 'im dance, yeh know," she continued, still musing ever so sweetly. I must have at this moment shuddered without much thought, as both Anthony and Mrs Lovett looked at me, laughing. "I take it yeh're not a fan of dancing, love?"

"I've never been able to do it," I replied shyly.

"Then we at last have something other than romantic conversation to occupy the evening," Anthony said happily, rising from his seat and extending a hand towards me.

"You won't get me to dance, you know."

"Will you at least let me try?" I laughed at his earnest expression, which he took as permission for him to grasp my hand and pull me gently to my feet. Mrs Lovett clapped her hands excitedly, urging us on. Anthony seemed to become shy at first, and I assumed this to be because he had rarely thought of even holding another woman's hand apart from Johanna's. I could not blame him. I had been near Mr Todd for so long that the touch of someone else's hand seemed alien to me.

I must admit, Anthony certainly did know how to dance, even if it was not a well taught method that he used. No music played, yet he murmured the steps that we took so that I could clearly hear them, although I doubt that Mrs Lovett could hear them at all. Still, as long as I could hear them, I was assured in what I was doing. I had never quite liked dancing whenever my father had taken me to a public occasion such as a ball or a garden party, but this may have been perhaps because of the filthy boys who tried to take my hand. None of them had any manners at all, and I doubt any of them ever looked into my eyes rather than lower down. Perhaps that was why I could dance now. Anthony barely spoke, and whatever he did say was of no importance to conversation, it instead was instruction, a neutral thing that I became used to. In a lapse of thought, I tripped slightly over my own feet, forcing Anthony to catch me with ease as I fell.

"What on Earth will we do with yeh?" Mrs Lovett asked, sarcastically tutting me.

"She's simply uneasy on her feet, I should think," Anthony said gently. He smiled encouragingly at me, pulling me to my feet again. "All she needs is a little practise."

"All she needs is a firm hold," a voice said at the door. We all looked up at once, a different expression on all of our faces. Anthony still smiled, a welcoming grin, and Mrs Lovett rose with a coy look in her eye. I on the other hand was slightly stunned.

"A firm hold?" I asked quietly, my voice disappearing until it was barely audible compared to the last sentence I had spoken.

Without speaking another word, simply staring at me with a slight adoration, Mr Todd moved towards us with a steady step and motioned for Anthony to move aside. He took hold of my hand and placed a steady hand on my waist. My breathing stopped short, a form of fear rising in my throat. I doubt he noticed it, though, as he did not release his grip, and instead maintained the firm hold he had spoken of. Mr Todd did not mutter any movements into my ear, but I found none were needed. We did not look away from each other, our gaze locked onto each others- my fixation was based on terror, his based on obsession.

Anthony and Mrs Lovett clapped politely when we had finished, as if it had been a show of some sort. I smiled at their efforts, noticing that Mr Todd still upheld a serious visage, staring at me. I expected he would leave to allow us to continue normal conversation, but at this point Anthony thought it best to leave. I was dazed to a point where I could barely say my goodbyes. Mrs Lovett and I waved him off from the shop's garden while Mr Todd returned to his flat. I requested to remain outside for some time to think, which Mrs Lovett reluctantly agreed to. I do wonder if she thought that I would run away again if she left me by myself. However, I had no money in my hand, nor did I have any of the possessions I would require, and so it would have been quite impossible for me to leave again. After a short period of time I could feel Mr Todd's eyes watching me once he had stepped out onto the platform outside his door. He did not come down or speak to me, though, nor did I even look at him. I simply knew he was there.

I paced the ground, following the fence around the garden. It was often soothing to look out at London at this time of night as I sometimes would do out the window in Mrs Lovett's parlour. Tonight, however, it seemed ever so daunting. London never seemed so big, never seemed so dark, never seemed so dangerous. Not long ago I had thought it a wonderful place I would come to call home. Of course, it was still my home, but I could not look out at the scene before me without knowing the dangers that lay ahead. I stopped, thinking. I placed a hand on the gate, hovering as if I were to open it. I do not know why I bothered to attempt opening the gate. Maybe I was tired, maybe I was unsure, maybe I didn't know whether I dared to.

I couldn't.

I let my hand fall away limply as I turned and sat one of the benches, still looking out towards London. I heard footsteps down the steps outside the barber shop and expected to feel Mr Todd's presence by my side soon enough. As I expected, he came to my side and sat down on the bench. He looked forward in the same manner I did, looking for whatever it was I searched for.

"There's nothing out there," I said quietly after a while. "Nothing for you to see, at least."

"I wouldn't say that," he replied. "But what, pray tell, are you looking for then?"

"I don't know."

"Then perhaps you should come inside. It's cold out here."

I nodded slowly, although felt as if already frozen to the spot where I sat. Noticing that I was in this state, Mr Todd took hold of my hand and placed another on my shoulder to guide me back towards Mrs Lovett's shop. Mrs Lovett had already long gone to bed and so we were alone in the parlour as he sat me down at the hearth in front of the fire. He took hold of a woollen shawl that was left draped over the sofa and wrapped it around my shoulders.

"Please, do not fuss over me, sir," I said, gently pushing his arm away from me.

"You've almost gone blue from the cold, Lucy."

"Then leave me by the fire and I shall be fine."

"How could I leave now? Lucy, you are trembling."

"Simply the cold, I can promise you."

"I still will not risk it."

We were again silent for some time as Mr Todd adjusted the shawl he now forced me to wear and threw another log onto the fire. I watched him with curiosity, amazed at how quickly and quietly he could get the task done.

"I notice that you have not been into the town for quite some time," he said once he had finished the fire. "Perhaps you would enjoy the walk if we went tomorrow?"

"Into the town?" I asked, my eyes wide. Mr Todd jumped slightly as if he had offended me, and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Of course, if you are not ready, you don't-"

"No, no, it isn't that," I interrupted, biting my lip. "It isn't that at all."

"Then perhaps you would enjoy the fresh air? I suppose you haven't done much apart from helping Mrs Lovett."

"I do not mind the business."

"I assumed not, but nevertheless I should think it better that I may be able to give you that chance for a break."

"Perhaps I may not wish for a break," I said.

"Lucy, I very rarely see you let alone speak to you and I do wish that you would allow me these opportunities." I paused, staring into those pleading eyes. I had never seen them in such a state before.

"I can not," I said at last.

"You needn't worry about Mrs Lovett, she will be quite pleased to-"

"No," I said quickly. "It isn't that either. I simply…can't."

"What do you mean?" he asked with a sincerity I did not expect with such a foolish comment. It made it all the more horrid to be angry with him. I felt a tear coming to my eye, but hurriedly brushed it away and stared at him.

"You, sir," I continued, my throat closing. "It is you."

"Me? I can't make any sense of you, Lucy, I must admit."

"Nor I you, sir. You claim to love me yet I see very little of you, as you run the moment that you believe I am in any state of angst. But that isn't the problem, I assure you."

"Then please, I beg of you to tell me what is."

"I have already said, sir, 'tis you. I owe you my life twice over, and still you flatter me without need to do so. There is little reason for you to do these things, and yet you do them. How can I leave now that I owe you so much, however much I regret the fact."

"But I do not ask you to leave," Mr Todd pointed out. "I only ask for you to step out this house."

"I can not leave this house!" I cried out in a spontaneous fit of passion. "I came here first when I had been saved, and now that I know what is out in London and what sanctuary lies within these walls I can not leave them!"

"No harm can come to you out there."

"Only if I know you are there. I can not expect you to follow me at all hours, I would not wish it."

"I'm afraid you have little choice in the matter."

"Sir, I do not want you to follow me, I do not wish for you to be there at all times."

"Because you know what you know?"

"Because you confuse me, sir. You speak to me as if you love me and yet you hold such a horrible secret. You are a tortured soul and yet you move as strongly as a man twice your size and strength. I simply do not know who or what you are, and no amount of conversation may change my mind in it."

Mr Todd nodded, drawing me closely to him until my head lay on his breast. I was surprised to feel his heartbeat so clearly as I could with any other man if I were in such close proximities. He held me in this manner for a minute, which passed by as if it were an aeon rather than sixty seconds, and then whispered to me:

"My secret is because I love you. The moment that he who caused all this pain and suffering is dead, I shall be able to prove my love. We shall go wherever you please, do whatever you choose. And my soul is of no importance if I can not at least pretend it was not scarred over the years. Let these words mean you are confused no more." I thought over his words, playing them through my head again and again. Not only his words, but words spoken by Mrs Lovett weeks ago. I looked up again into Mr Todd's eyes, my heart racing.

"Mrs Lovett once told me that you would not touch me," I said, my voice trembling.

"Not without permission, of course. I understand that you do not wish it." I pressed my lips together nervously, expecting to see his features change. He sighed and started to push me away gently, causing me to grip his shirt firmly.

"Then kiss me," I said earnestly, bringing my face closer to his. I anticipated him to kiss me at that moment, but instead he turned his head as I attempted to press my lips to his. "You will show me affection as you wish it, but not as I do?" I asked.

"I will show affection at all times, but I give you nothing more than words. Your mind is so fragile that I can not abuse it any further."

"Not abuse, anything but. And my mind is not fragile, I am certain about that."

"You have just spoken to me about the horrors you claim to go through."

"That you saved me from, sir! You took me away from such horrors and for that I have already said I owe you my life. I know well enough you do not wish for my life, only my love."

"But you do not love me, Lucy."

"Perhaps so, but I can quite easily learn to. Sir, you so often wish that life could be as it once was and life can be that way now if you so wish it."

"And what of your memories?" he asked, his voice thick. I knew he would not cry, he had long lost the ability to do so, but his sorrow was plain in his voice. In desperation, I searched through my mind, gathering all information Mrs Lovett had told me in my mind. The process was quick enough, and in despondency I moved so that I straddled his waist, my hands on either side of his face so that he was forced to look at me.

"I remember," I started, swallowing thickly, "our little girl. Johanna, the girl Anthony is looking for. And…I remember the judge- Judge Turpin. Everything he did to us, everything we suffered through. I remember them taking you away from us, me and Johanna. I remember dearly loving Benjamin Barker."

"What about Sweeney Todd?"

"He loves me," I replied. I uttered a short burst of forced laughter. "And I assume his heart is racing now he knows I can remember him."

I placed a hand on his breast, feeling the rapid beating beneath my palm. My hand slid away from his chest and gently took hold of his hand, which I kissed with an imploring tenderness.

"How long have you remembered?" he asked in awe.

"Ever since you killed my- that man who claimed to be my father," I said quickly, thinking of an event that may have been of some significance.

"Why did you not tell me?"

"You supposed that speaking to me would distress me." At these words Mr Todd let out a low moan and brought his face close to mine, his forehead touching my own gently until I could feel his breathe upon me.

"Ask again, my love. If you wish for me to kiss you then you need only ask once more, and I shall be at your command for any more you desire."

"Kiss me," I repeated fervently, and before I could even move his lips were upon mine. In all the days I had seen him cold as ice and still as a statue, I had never dreamed of the passion with which he held me and the devotion he displayed to me. He kissed me in this manner for what seemed to be hours, and when he withdrew I clung to him like a whimpering child, imploring him to take me again to his room. I prepared to stand, but instead I was simply held, and I frantically kept my legs around his wais so as not to fall.

"Someone may see us," I said worriedly.

"Let them see if they wish it," he replied, murmuring the words into my ear.

Mr Todd carried me with the ease of a man with twice his strength while never allowing his lips to leave mine. I was left to yet again ask for any more intimacy other than his kisses, a silly thing indeed. I asked for his sake, of course. It seemed cruel to admit it to myself, but I did owe him my life. Perhaps my virtue would be enough for now. In the future I could learn to love him in the way he loved me. I already knew that his plan was to kill Judge Turpin tomorrow night. After that, we could leave. He would not kill again, not if I asked it. Knowing he could no longer harm a man could change him, turn him into the Benjamin Barker that the real Lucy loved. I could love that man, maybe. Not that it mattered, I would learn to love him either way.

It was not until deep into the night as Mr Todd looked adoringly into my eyes by my side that I became strangely used to the feel of his form against my own. He held me, simply lying there as if at peace. At this time I could not imagine him being anything but the man who loved me, rather than the man who sought revenge on his past. His pale skin was almost luminous in the dark, his eyes shining and black as both the stars and night that surrounded us. I was quite hypnotised until the point where we had been staring at each other for an hour at least.

"You still call me sir, you know," Mr Todd said lightly after some time.

"Excuse me?"

"It is as if you would rather not speak my name. You must, really."

"You wish for me to call you Sweeney?"

"Very much so." I nodded, my eyes still locked upon his. He kissed my forehead swiftly, muttering a quick thank you- a strange thing indeed, for it was barely a request rather than a statement.

"Goodnight…Sweeney."


	20. Sweeney Revenge

She had fallen asleep not long after saying my name. I could not myself find the effort to sleep, I was still so caught up in wonder of her. Lucy slept in my arms that night without a single fuss, without a single murmur, not even a single sound apart from the gentle sigh of her breath. My fingers traced mindless patterns on her bare shoulder, although the touch did not make her shiver as a simple brushing of the hand once had. It was such a settling feeling that came upon me at these small things that I almost forgot everything else but that moment.

As the morning broke, and at last the sun rose fully, the light came through the window and awoke my dear Lucy. Her eyes were quite wide with surprise at first, but realisation swept through her and she was calm yet again.

Without another word, as if our usual schedule ruled over our minds more than the united tranquillity over the past night, we both rose from the bed and dressed. It was almost unnerving how quiet we were and how little we looked at each other. Before she left, Lucy bowed her head in a light farewell and left towards the pie shop. I watched the door after she had gone, still slightly bemused, but could not find a reason to otherwise become distracted.

It did not take long for Mrs Lovett come to the flat again. Her curiosity got the better of her, I suppose, and therefore it was her instead of Lucy who brought a tray without much hope of it being touched. She was quiet enough for a short time, and I could see that she yearned to speak out. In a desperation not to allow her to speak, I turned and watched out the window, staring down at London below. It seemed almost empty to me now.

"Anthony'll be back tonight," she said finally, her voice quiet. "With Johanna."

"I know that," I said firmly, unsure why she bothered to speak without much importance to her topic.

"We know yeh're gonna do something about the judge tonight, love," she continued. "Yeh're not gonna tell me what it is, are yeh?"

"I myself don't know, Mrs Lovett."

She paused, slightly dumbfounded. After all, it was not often that I didn't know what to do. Mrs Lovett hovered for a while, watching me curiously. I continued to look out the window, attempting to distract myself from her gaze. I almost wished to force her out myself, but maintained my composure, however hard it was to do so.

"Yeh'll be careful, won't yeh, love?" I nodded absent-mindedly, having learnt it was best to agree with whatever she asked for unless I wished for an argument of some sort. "It's just…I want yeh to be thoughtful. Yehr Lucy's always only a floor below. Just make sure she ain't gonna see anything."

"Do you honestly think me sick enough to flaunt murder in front of her?"

"Of course not, love, but yeh can get carried away with yehrself sometimes." I cast her a dark look, making it perfectly clear how idiotic her claims were. She jumped slightly, swallowing as if I were to kill her at that very moment. "I just want yeh to think about it," she finished finally.

"Send up the boy," I said gruffly, turning again to the window with a plan starting in my mind. Mrs Lovett seemed to waver at first, but deciding I would not kill him, she left the room. I don't know why she bothered to think over it. She would do whatever I told her to anyway.

I sent Toby out quickly to deliver a letter to the judge. By that evening he would have read it and would be on his way down to Fleet Street. I was given time to think, only to waste it with thoughts of revenge instead of a plan on how to achieve such revenge. My thoughts ran away with me, and only the image of the judge's blood on my sleeve stuck in my mind.

_**How unbelievably short was that? Very. But only because Sweeney's narration kind of bores me in this story unless something BIG happens. Which it will. So stay tuned- the next chapter's definitely longer!**_


	21. Diane Knowing

Mrs Lovett scurried about the shop that day in a daze. We all were. Even Toby seemed to notice something was wrong. I wondered for a while whether he knew what was happening that evening, but knew it impossible for him to have found out. In the middle of the day, Mr Todd- I dared not call him Sweeney while not in his presence- had sent Toby away and so me and Mrs Lovett relaxed slightly, as if his being there was a danger to our secret.

The day was speedy, to say the least. Mrs Lovett seemed surprised when it was time to turn the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'. With nothing else to do but wait, we sat silently in the parlour. I watched Mrs Lovett carefully, slightly frightened at how weary she seemed. She lay on the long sofa with her feet up and her eyes closed tiredly. I did not wish to say a single word in fear that I should disturb her, as I knew her kindly nature disallowed her to ask me to be silent. Sometimes I did worry that she was abused far too much due to this nature.

When Toby did arrive again, a slight surprise aired through the room. Mrs Lovett looked over at him with a slight smile, her eyes fluttering open. She scolded him sweetly for taking so long, her tone making it clear enough that there was no sour mood meant, although Toby's face was still quite sullen. I stared at him for a moment, trying to read the sadness in his eyes, but I saw no words within them. Before I knew it, I had been staring so long that I had lost most of the conversation. Mrs Lovett stood up, plucking at a strand of her hair and walking towards the mirror. Distracting herself.

"I ain't smart, ma'am, but I ain't dumb neither. Yeh don't have to worry about nothing no more, ma'am, I'll protect yeh."

"Now, Toby," Mrs Lovett began brightly, her smile determined. "There's no reason for yehr fretting, dear. Honestly, yehr imagination runs away with yeh sometimes." Toby sat by my side, leaning his head against my shoulder.

"Maybe, to cheer up, Mrs Lovett could give you a penny. Fetch some toffees from down the road?" I looked up at Mrs Lovett desperately, and she nodded approvingly.

"That'll do nicely," she said, reaching over to the mantle and taking hold of a small purse. Toby smiled, if only at our effort to cheer him rather than the idea of sweets. He stood rather reluctantly and came to Mrs Lovett who presented him with the penny, her smile still broad on her face.

"That's Mister Pirelli's purse, that is!" Toby suddenly cried out, stepping back, horrified.

"Pirelli?" I asked hoarsely, my voice abandoning me.

"That proves it, we've gotta find the beadle, ma'am, we've gotta get the law and- and-"

"'ey, 'ey, what're yeh talking about? Yeh shouldn't say such things, love. Mr T's been so good to us." She sat down again on the sofa, pulling Toby closely towards her. Her eyes met mine fearfully for a moment, the tears already creating a shine. It almost caused me to cry in turn.

"Yeh don't believe me," he said quietly, looking up at her. "But I know what's going on. I know that he's up to something. Something bad."

"You don't know that," I said, though even I could not persuade myself that was speaking anything but a lie. Mrs Lovett smiled half-heartedly, understanding the effort, but still lost.

"I don't care if yeh don't believe me," Toby continued bravely. "I'll still keep yeh safe, ma'am. I ain't gonna let 'im 'urt yeh."

"There's nothing to 'urt us 'ere, Toby, love," she said, stroking his hair soothingly. "Nothing at all."

"Whatever yeh say, ma'am. But I'll still be watching, yeh know. For when things go wrong."

"Things won't go wrong," she mumbled finally. There was a brief silence, in which I saw her thoughts flying quickly. So quickly I doubted I had really seen them. "Toby," she began slowly. "Yeh know 'ow yeh've always wanted to see 'ow I make the pies down in the bake house?" Toby nodded, a hopeful smile on his lips. "Well…no time like the present."

He grinned childishly, excitement clear on his face and in his eyes. Mrs Lovett's eyes only seemed to droop in a sadness I could not place. No matter how much I thought, I could not place it. I was utterly confused. Yet I was also frightened. Toby knew of Mr Todd's deeds, it was obvious. Perhaps he simply suspected, and wished for us to persuade him that he was either right or wrong. Perhaps that was why Mrs Lovett was taking him down to the bake house. To keep him quiet until we could find out a way to keep him quiet. I bowed my head, closing my eyes gently. He would never trust any of us again, I thought to myself. Most certainly not poor Mrs Lovett, who so blatantly told him it was all a lie, that nothing was wrong. That no misdeeds were carried out under the roof.

When I attempted to follow Mrs Lovett and Toby as they went to the bake house, Mrs Lovett raised a hand, shaking her head.

"Mr T wouldn't want yeh down there, love, yeh know that."

"I don't see what he has to do with it," I muttered, although I obediently sat down again. She tilted her head apologetically and was gone with a swift movement. I bowed my head again, quite unsure of what to do with myself. The room was silent enough for me to control my thoughts. Soon enough, Mrs Lovett came back to disturb those thoughts. As I expected, Toby was no longer with her.

"What did you do?" I asked curiously, not noticing the tears that brimmed her eyes- she had her head turned slightly so as not to look me in the eye.

"'e's down in the bake 'ouse," she replied with a thick voice. "I'll get Mr T soon, 'e'll come and 'elp us."

"Toby doesn't like Mr Todd very much," I noted. "There's little he can do." Mrs Lovett tilted her head slightly, and then gasped loudly, placing her hand over her mouth.

"'e didn't tell yeh," she murmured behind her hand. "The lousy fool, 'e didn't tell yeh."

"Tell me what?"

"What- what 'appens in the…I need to fetch Mr T." She attempted to walk to the door, but I stood and took hold of her arm.

"Mrs Lovett, tell me what?"

"Tell you…what 'appens down there," she finished after a wavering sob, her form shaking with tears.

"Must I assume that something happens there as well?" I asked quietly. She nodded. "Then I shan't wish to hear of them, if they can be of any more trouble to you than what happens up there," I said, looking up at the ceiling.

"Yeh'll 'ate me, yeh know."

"More the reason for me not to find out," I said, letting go of her arm. She looked as if she were to speak again, but thought better of it and quickly stepped out of the room. By the time I reached the back door of the pie shop she had already fetched Mr Todd.

"I 'ave 'im down in the bake 'ouse," she said hurriedly to him, her voice as composed as she could make it. They reached the bottom of the stairs, Mrs Lovett still breathing quite heavily as if she had not stopped to take a breath at all.

"We only have a short time before the judge will come," Mr Todd said to her, too busy to notice me there for a moment. Suddenly, his eyes snapped up to the door behind me. I turned rapidly as Mrs Lovett did the same, although her gasp was more fearful than mine as we saw the squat, rather rat-faced man that stood at the door.

"I'm sorry, sir," Mrs Lovett said gaspily. "Yeh gave me a fright."

"Not my intention, I assure you," he said in a horribly greasy voice. "But I am here on urgent business." He took hold of his staff and pointed it up at the chimneys. "We've been receiving complaints about your chimneys. I'm afraid I'm going to have to inspect them."

"Of course," Mr Todd said calmly. "But first, sir, I do still owe you a shave." I myself was quite taken aback, while Mrs Lovett only smiled slightly. No, not smiled. It was not a smile at all. It was an indication that this man was going to die.

"As much as I would enjoy the offer, I do have to take care of my duties."

"Indeed you do," he said, although both he and Mrs Lovett moved to block his way as he tried to enter the pie shop again. "Might I ask you, though, sir, what is that exotic aroma I can smell?"

It seemed Mr Todd had struck a chord with the man. He smiled, showing those horribly yellow teeth.

"My secret," he began, "is a touch of ambergris."

"May I offer you perhaps something a little more befitting a man of your stature?"

"Well, I-"

"I'm sure it will certainly please the ladies."

I knew at that moment that the man was well and truly seduced into death. He did not look at me twice, and instead followed Mr Todd up to the barber shop. Mrs Lovett wrapped an arm around my shoulders, guiding me back into the shop.

"The beadle," she muttered quickly to me, knowing very well I hadn't a clue who he was. "'elped the judge in 'is little plan all them years ago. Probably still 'elps 'im with any plans 'e's got now."

I nodded, although I tried to rid myself of the thoughts that she had placed in my mind. All we could do was sit and wait now. Wait for the beadle to die, and wait for Mr Todd to return to us. Mrs Lovett briefly told me that they needed to return to the bake house, but said nothing more. I stared at her as she said this, seeing tears again return to her.

"Mrs Lovett, you needn't worry," I said as soothingly as I could muster. "Everything will work out, I'm sure."

"Yeh don't know," she replied in a shaky voice.

"As I have said, I do not wish to know." She nodded slowly, shivering as she calmed herself. We sat for mere minutes before Mr Todd came down again to the pie shop, his face still and almost emotionless. Again, he did not dare look at me. I daresay it was shame that kept his eyes forward now.

"Is he still down in the bake house?" Mr Todd asked as he walked into the shop.

"I 'aven't let 'im out," Mrs Lovett replied. They moved to leave, and I simply assumed that I was to stay put again. Mrs Lovett looked back and smiled reassuringly, making my assumption true. The pie shop suddenly seemed to much larger and emptier now, and a more frightening prospect.

The night outside was fully dark, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not rid the idea of who was out there at that very moment. I shook slightly at the very idea. There was an echoing silence, and I wondered what the two must be saying to Toby at that very moment. After all, it would not do them any good to be blunt. Yet as he had said, Toby was not a stupid boy. He would not want to be patronised. It most certainly would not help if they were to at all cross him. He was a young boy, but I did not doubt that he would be able to run quickly to the law.

If Mr Todd would ever let him get that far.

Yet the dead can not speak.

My hand flew to my mouth in horror, my mind causing such horrible images in my mind. But I put the image quickly from me, telling myself not to think of such things. Mr Todd would not dare harm the child. He had only ever raised his hand to me once, but was ever so apologetic afterwards that I doubted he could ever harm the innocent ever again. Yet, were those in his chair not as innocent as I and Toby were? I knew very well no harm could come to me any more, but was it right to feel a relief at this?

"Miss Diane?" came an urgent voice at the door. I stood quickly, spinning on my heel to stare at Toby who waited at the door, breathing heavily. My eyes opened quite wide in shock.

"Toby?" I asked warily, supporting myself by placing a hand on the table beside me. "Why are you not in the bake house? Mrs Lovett wished to speak to you."

"Speak to me!" he said as loudly as he could without shouting. "She didn't wanna speak to me!"

"Calm down," I pleaded, looking towards the door. "Perhaps I can take you down to her-"

"Yeh can't take me down there!" Toby rushed to my side, placing a hand on my arm. "Miss Diane, yeh don't know what's been going on down there!"

"Then I should think I'll find out soon enough." I took hold of his hand gently, but he snatched it away quickly enough.

"I was right," he said hastily, as if hissing the words. "Mr Todd, there's something about 'im. I was right all along!"

"Right in what?" Toby paused, watching around us fearfully before looking again with earnest eyes.

"'e's a murderer," he whispered.

It took quite a while for the two of us to recover from this statement. He still watched me, now curious, waiting for my reply. I wonder if at the time, I should have laughed. It would have been best. Laugh at the notion that Mr Todd were a murderer and try and make Toby believe he were lying. But I knew that what he said was true. It was all the more a shame. I pondered a moment, though my features did not change to betray me. I was far too startled at the time.

"What makes you say that?"

"I was down there!" he cried out. "I saw the beadle, 'is body, throat slit like a pig or summit!"

"You must have been imagining things, Toby."

"I'm not crazy, Miss Diane."

"I didn't say you were, Toby. I simply think that you are letting your imagination get the better of you."

"Yeh can't imagine these things! I can't imagine a dead body coming from the ceiling! None of us can imagine what goes into those pies!"

"The pies? Now perhaps I should think you've gone mad."

"The beadle's next!" he said solemnly. "I don't know, there musta been some people before. Their bones are down there now, Miss Diane! Bones, eyes, I found a finger in a pie while I was working!"

Footsteps started to sound from further out towards the bake house steps. Toby jumped as if I had pricked him with a needle. The fear in his movement caused me to jolt slightly myself.

"Don't tell 'em," he said quickly, turning to the door and running as he spoke. "Please, don't tell 'em!"

He ran from the room, and the moment he disappeared, Mrs Lovett came into the pie shop, followed silently by Mr Todd who left quite as quickly, his fists tightened. Once again, he did not even glance my way. Mrs Lovett assured me he was simply frustrated, or even simply excited in his own simple way about the night to come. After all, it was almost finished. I did not dare look at Mrs Lovett, Toby's words burned into my mind far too much to allow it.

I listened to the faint footsteps upstairs, but they were only a distraction. We were otherwise silent. I had moved to the window, watching the night outside. It held little interest, and even less of a distraction- something that I needed so desperately now. Misfortune meant that such diversions were not to be at all pleasant. I did not recognise the judge. Of course, I had no reason to. I had never seen him. If I had seen him, I don't expect I would have realised there were anything at all bad in the man. Yes, he was old, and yes, he did not seem to smile, but all in all he was nothing that you would expect evil.

Oh, how wrong could I be?

I guessed who the man was when he swerved towards the steps that led to Mr Todd's shop. I stiffened slightly, quite right in my knowledge of what was to come. At least, what I thought was to come. I expected I would sit there, waiting. I would not hear a thing. I would see nothing to perturb me in the slightest. No one need have talked to me, as I would have taken enough comfort in these facts. It seemed my night would refuse to go as either Mr Todd or Mrs Lovett had planned it.

The judge's eyes must have turned ever so briefly in his haste to the window. I do not see why they did, all I know is that was the way fate had planned it. When his foot had only stepped upon the first step, he froze, turning in a brisk movement to stare at me. I should have thought he wondered if he'd seen a ghost. Perhaps he thought he had. Perhaps he knew Lucy was dead. As quickly as he had moved to the stairs, he leant into the shop, gripping onto the doorframe and staring at me, dumbfounded.

"It can not be," he murmured under his breath. Mrs Lovett looked up sharply, not having noticed any commotion beforehand.

"Judge Turpin, yehr honour, I-"

"You," he said, pointing a finger almost accusingly at Mrs Lovett. "You- I remember you knew her. You knew her before she died- why is she not dead?"

"Yeh came to see Mr T- Mr Todd," she said stiffly, her shoulders strained in effort to keep still. The judge's jaw tightened, and just as he left, he grabbed hold of my wrist.

"He'll at least explain what you are doing here," the judge muttered bitterly, dragging me up the steps behind him. I was surprised, to say the least- no, in fact, I was frightened. I pulled hard on my arm, trying to prise his fingers away from my wrist with my spare hand. It was to no avail, and the next thing I knew I was thrust forcefully into the barber shop.

I feared I would almost fall to the floor, but another more gentle and colder hand grabbed hold of me before I could even let a foot leave the ground. I found myself trapped once more in Mr Todd's arms, though they now saved me rather than very nearly attacked me. He looked down at me, and I could see in that moment that this evening most certainly hadn't gone as he had planned either. I was sure enough I knew why. In such close proximities, I smelt fresh blood about him. Far too fresh to be the beadle's. I winced slightly, but ignored the fact. Mr Todd brought me steadily to my feet again the moment I uttered the slight wince, possibly understanding the reason why I did so.

"You are here for Johanna," Mr Todd said, directing his speech to the judge. It was not a question, it was rather a statement.

"I think you'd best explain _her_ first," the judge spat. "What on Earth is she doing here?"

"You speak quite strangely, and on a subject manner with little to do with why you are here- nay, nothing to do with why you are here. Would you instead like to sit, I have much to tell you of your ward."

Had I not already known what Mr Todd were planning, he would have fooled even me.

"Mr Todd, I demand you-"

"She is down in the bake house, you know," Mr Todd interrupted pointedly. "Longing for your forgiveness." The judge opened his mouth, but paused midway, his mind changing subject without him even noticing it.

"She is?" he asked quietly, his voice not a whisper but instead a moan.

"Oh yes. She speaks only of you." The judge's shoulder braced in eagerness, and as if making a decision, he pulled me back towards the door.

"I'll deal with you later," he said bitterly.

He closed the door behind me, and the very last thing I saw was Mr Todd leading the judge to the barber chair, a knowing look in his eye cast towards me.


	22. Sweeney Lucy

The blood was absolutely everywhere. I had never given such a messy death, never once in the past months. Yet there I was, panting slightly as the blood trickled down my face. I almost forgot that Lucy was waiting just outside the door. Pausing only to look at my friend, bathed in the newly deceased's blood, I folded it and put it in its holster. I was busy enough not to notice the sound of the trunk lid softly opening.

Lucy waited, sitting on the wooden platform and looking earnestly at the door as I came though. Even when she was brought again to her feet, she was trembling. She assured me it was simply the cold, although I could have sworn she flinched when I accidentally brushed her wrist where the judge had so cruelly held her- rather, dragged her. I put this thought behind me, knowing that it would do me no good to be at all angry when Lucy was so close to me.

I knew well enough that the sight of the blood on me scared her even more. It would scare most people. Yet she did not complain. I quite admired her for it, but dreadfully wished she would say something if it troubled her. After all, it was all I could ask of her.

The scene that waited for us at the bake house was one I doubt I could forget. There were bodies strewn across the floor, and Mrs Lovett was already at work dragging one across towards the furnace. She looked up, frightened, towards us as we entered. Alarmed by the way she looked so frightful, I turned sharply to Lucy, noticing that she almost cowered against the door.

"Stand over there," I ordered lightly. "Perhaps it's best you don't look."

She nodded stiffly, backing away towards the wall. Mrs Lovett looked wistful. I doubt it was easy for her, knowing that she was the only woman able to do such jobs, having no one to fret over her mental well being. If I weren't so busy thinking of a specific person's well being, I might have cared slightly about hers.

Then again, I wouldn't.

It was all I could do out of the slightest glint of guilt- the slightest, I remind you, it was quite impossible for me to feel it too deeply- to push her aside and take hold of the body for her. I told her to open the door to the furnace, my tone more stern than I had been with Lucy, admittedly. I had little time or patience to ponder this, though, and instead watched Mrs Lovett open the door, allowing some light into the room before I bothered with the task before me. I glanced quickly at Lucy, seeing her crouched in a corner. She never did handle blood very well.

The light poured out of the oven and through the relatively empty bake house. Wrinkling my nose, as if the light had suddenly strengthened the scent of blood which had rarely bothered me before, I looked down, preparing to take hold of the body that lay at my feet. The beggar woman's. I hadn't planned to kill her. She had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Perhaps it was for the best though. The woman had been raving before her death. I counted that one death as simply 'putting the person out of their misery'.

As I looked down at the dead beggar woman's body, I paused. Mrs Lovett gasped quietly, and Lucy looked up ever so slightly. I did not look at either of them, though. I looked only down at the figure on the floor. Slowly, with an almost painful deliberation, I knelt to the floor, my hand calmly stretching out towards the woman's hair. I brushed it aside, revealing her face.

"Don't I know you, she said," I muttered. It was too painful to even cry. It was too shocking to raise my voice. I was too angry to even move.

"Mr Todd?"

I turned my head harshly as I heard the sweet tone I had heard so many times before. Lucy arched her back slightly, trying to back closer towards the wall as she saw the brutal stare I bestowed upon her.

"Who are you?" I asked bitterly, turning again to clutch my dead wife's hand. I dared not believe it true, but I could not escape the fact. It was my wife I held. The wife that I had killed, not the one I thought I had saved. The wife that was truly mine, rather than the woman who cowered now in the corner.

"Mrs Lovett?" she questioned wearily, looking up to the baker.

"You lied to me," I said firmly. "You both lied to me."

"I tried to warn yeh," Mrs Lovett said shakily, though her stance seemed brave enough. "Yeh remember? All those times we tried to warn yeh."

"You told me only last night," I began to say, speaking to the girl in the corner, although not daring to look at her, "that you were my wife. You told me only last night you remembered everything."

"Would yeh 'ave believed 'er if she denied it?" Mrs Lovett whispered.

"Had I known you'd lied to me I would have!" I screamed, at last finding the power to express the fury in my veins. It surpassed that I had felt when I had been told of Lucy's ordeal- the true Lucy's.

"I 'ad to lie," she said, visibly trembling now. "I 'ad to. 'ow would yeh react, knowing that she was a beggar? That she sold 'herself on the street?"

"Better knowing that than kill her now!"

"She couldn't take care of yeh, not the way yeh needed." I glared once more, but sorrow clutched me again in its grasp and I uttered a low moan.

"Dear God," I cried out, embracing Lucy pitifully. "You'd rather I suffered this way, found out like this?"

"I did it for you."

"And what good did it do me!" I let go of Lucy's body, standing quickly, causing her to jump. "Little to none! A few days of ignorance to make it all the more unbearable now!"

"I was only thinking of _you_," Mrs Lovett said boldly. "She was as good as dead, she couldn't look after yeh. I thought- I knew- that I-I-"

"That you would be a better wife?" I questioned, spitting the words out.

"Of course I would 'ave been!" she replied. "I could 'ave cared for yeh, while she wandered the streets, living the way she 'ad for years now. We'd 'ave been alright! And then _she_ came," she added frantically, pointing a finger at the woman still crouched in the corner, tears streaming down her eyes. "She came, and yeh thought she was Lucy! I tried to warn yeh, I tried to tell yeh, but yeh wouldn't listen! So I thought, maybe she'll be better for yeh than I could be, yeh loved 'er more! Maybe ignorance was bliss, maybe yeh'd both be 'appy!"

Clutching my razor firmly, I growled with such rage one might think me a beast rather than a man. My other hand shot out as I arrived steps in front of Mrs Lovett, and with a summoned strength I gripped her throat. She uttered a breathless scream that came out as nothing more than the squeak of a mouse being trodden on.

"You call this happiness?" I hissed into her ear. "I without a wife, that girl weeping in a corner like a child, and you with a hand around your neck?"

"That girl…we told yeh 'er name, yeh remember it," she whispered between gasps. "Mr T, yeh'll give 'er a chance, won't yeh? Yeh told me yeh loved 'er, didn't yeh? Yeh told 'er exactly the same thing. And yeh can love 'e- she'd be no different from what yehr Lucy once was- better! Lucy wouldn't 'ave gone near yeh, love. She'd lost everything, she weren't right in the 'ead."

"Don't I know you," I repeated, my grip tightening ever so slightly. "She remembered me well enough, and you know it."

"Yeh face, love, Benjamin Barker. She couldn't 'ave loved Sweeney Todd." She smiled desperately. "Only fools could do that."

"I never cared for fools," I growled, my eyes glancing at the oven ever so slightly. A sneer appeared on my lips. I watched as her eyes widened. Of course, she would have noticed. Mrs Lovett gaped hopelessly, shaking her head.

"Please," she whispered, but it was useless now. I'd begun to drag her towards the oven, pausing in front of the flaming gates. She began to cry pitifully, struggling weakly.

"No need for tears, my _pet_," I said bitterly. "Obviously, I know that's not the name you always wanted, but as we know, I barely have the pity for you any more- I wouldn't grace you."

"Mr T, Diane's there, yeh can't-"

"Oh, hush, my pet," I continued sarcastically, gripping Mrs Lovett's waist and hand. "I've never been able to stand tears. I had plenty enough waiting for Lucy. Though, I'm sure you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Mrs Lovett let out a choked sob, staring at me fearfully. I sneered. Perhaps one last dance would cause a pitiful amount of the suffering I had endured. She flinched as I spun her gently, a grotesque version of a waltz.

"P-p-please," Mrs Lovett stuttered.

"Please? Please what? Forgive you? Love you? Forget everything? Or end it all?"

"N-no, I-"

"I should think ending it now would put you out of your misery," I hissed. "But then again…I could not bear another moment."

I completely forgot Lucy and the girl in the corner at that moment of anger. With a swift movement, I had thrown Mrs Lovett directly into the flames. I did not wince nor feel any remorse as her wails and screams echoed through the bake house. They were just a background sound now. I had heard more torturous hollers in that God forsaken hell hole I had lived in for fifteen years. This woman's screams could not effect me in any way any more.

Though I was not deaf to the world. Not at all. Although the scream did not bother me, I could still hear it. I could still hear the other shriek of horror that joined with it. Though I did not care for it, I still turned to see that impostor staring at me, horrified.

"You killed her!" she screeched, shaking. "You killed her!"

"A filthy liar," I spat. "No better than those I have killed before."

"Am I next then?" she asked, her tone suddenly quieter, her eyes wider. "You're going to kill me next?"

"No," I said lightly, though I still clutched my razor. "I'd rather I first find out why you are here."

"Because you brought me here! Because you wouldn't let me go!"

"Why did you go along with it? Why did you lie to me, or stay here when you could have left?"

"I did leave, but you came for me again." She tried to heave herself to her feet, and managed with great difficulty, although still could not stand alone without having to lean against the wall behind her. "And when I tried to tell you, you dismissed the notion. I wasn't right in the head, was I? I'd just lost my memory, hadn't I?"

"If you had tried hard enough I would have believed you," I muttered in reply.

"Do you think I didn't try hard enough? The only person who tried harder to persuade you was Mrs Lovett, and you killed her!" She smiled weakly. "But you wouldn't have killed me. You loved me until tonight."

"I loved what you pretended to be."

"And what would the difference be? You thought of me as much as you thought of that woman."

Hearing her mention Lucy even in the vaguest terms was just too much. With a howl of anger, I launched myself across the room in a few strides and gripped the girl by the throat. She yelped once, scrambling away from me, but without much effort. I suppose she knew of her fate.

"Don't mention her," I growled. "If you do, I swear-"

"You'll what?" she asked. "Kill me? You're going to kill me anyway, so just be done with it!"

"How can you be so free to ask me to end your life?" I asked irritably. "Not even a plea? You will not beg?"

"What difference will it make to how my life will end?"

"You will not beg, if only to see loved ones again?" Her eyes widened slightly, and she bit her lip fiercely. When her teeth moved again, I could see that she had very nearly pierced her skin.

"Mr Todd, you killed him," she reminded me shakily. "You killed the only loved one I had left."

"Then beg if only to find another," I said, my knuckles turning even paler around the razor. I expected her to cry, or scream, or maybe even defy me by refusing to beg.

Instead, she laughed.

It wasn't a sweet laugh. It wasn't a childish laugh, or even a titter. It was a laugh that you would hear in Bedlam, the sort of laughter that had told me that finally, I had broken this girl before me. Shocked, I let go of her, and she dropped to her knees, still laughing at she sat on the floor on her knees. She did not even look at me, she was too busy in this delirious humour.

"Beg?" she finally said when she had caught her breath, though she still laughed. "Of course, I must beg!" She sat up on her knees, clasping her hands together in mock prayer. "Please, Dear Lord, strike down this man! Oh please, Mr Todd, have pity on this little girl! She who so rottenly tricked you!"

"Stop it," I ordered, though I could not longer raise my voice. Had my own Lucy raved in this manner before Mrs Lovett had sent her on her way? Of course she had! She must have roamed the streets in this fashion for so long.

"Stop it? I ask only for my life, Mr Todd, oh dear Mr Todd." She looked at me directly, her eyes wide and bright. "Am I to be given a chance? Am I to live another night?"

"I have told you to stop it," I said, wincing.

"Oh, but Mr Todd, you can not say such things to your dearest, your darlingest! You do love me, don't you, Mr Todd?"

"I-"

"You told me you loved me," she said, pouting, folding her arms across her chest. "Only last night, Mr Todd, you told me you loved me ever so much. Your pretty little Lucy, that's what you said I was."

"It was all a lie," I muttered.

"Been telling lies, Mr Todd? It's not good to tell lies, you know." She giggled again, and pointed a finger towards herself. "You might end up here, mightn't you?"

It was more than I could bear.

The mad girl's ravings had left me incapable of moving. I knew what had to be done, but could not find it in myself to take hold of her, to finish the job myself. I looked down at the ground, slumped against the wall. There was nothing I could do but wait there until something happened, something that would eventually finish me off. Something to finally kill me, finally get the job over and done with.

All of a sudden, a gentle tap came upon my shoulder. I looked up. She sat there, twitching slightly, but smiling determinedly.

"Those little lies still haven't helped you, have they?" she taunted with a childish tone. "Could your little Lucy help?" She placed her head against my chest, still looking up at me. I wrinkled my nose, as if she were a corpse already rather than simply a girl. A raving one, at that.

"Don't call yourself that," I murmured, my hand already moving closer to her throat. "Don't call yourself Lucy."

"You called me it," she reminded me. "Maybe you've confused me, Mr Todd? Am I someone else?"

Gently, I placed the razor against her throat. I knew that the slightest move would most likely cause a fuss.

"You are," I replied quietly.

"And you're lying," she said, still laughing.

"Of course I am," I humoured.

And so, with that said, the razor slid across her throat. She didn't scream- she was still laughing. I don't know whether it made the process easier, or somehow worse than it had ever been before. The amusement that she held, even created in madness, was enough to bring guilt to my heart, and tears to my eyes. I persisted, though. I had to. As she said, she had nothing left. What good would it do that world another beggar on the streets? I certainly could not- would not- have taken care of her.

Then again, even if she had not started to rave, she would have died.

I stood, staring around at the mess that surrounded me. Bodies were scattered across the floor, and blood still shone, still damp. How could all of this happened in such time? It seemed impossible, and yet it was so. I stared at the two women laying almost peacefully, despite the gouges in their throats. I knew very well I should have turned away then. I should have left- I had no use in cleaning up, I knew I was to die that night anyway. My plan had been so for quite a while now. At least, it had been, yet the plan had been postponed for a quite a while. Now, however, they could finally be carried out. Before I could leave, though, my desire to remain got the better of me, if only for a minute.

I knelt again by my wife's side, clinging onto her desperately. I had weakened to the point where I embraced what I knew to be a corpse. With this thought free from my mind, I cradled her in my arms gently.

Yet, before I died, I could not help but think to myself: _Am I sure who it is I held?_


End file.
